Taking Chances
by MyFirstPenNameWasTaken
Summary: Rosemarie Hathaway loves to gamble. What happens when she meets Adrian Ivashkov, the player who understands Rose's need for gambling, as he has one too? Or, when she meets Dimitri Belikov, the one man she can't risk losing? All human. Full summary inside
1. Chapter 1

**Taking a Gamble**

**Summary: **Rosemarie Hathaway loves to gamble. Her father, Abe Mazur, has enough money to let Rose indulge in her little obsession. He has so much, in fact, that it doesn't faze either of them when she loses. What happens when she meets Adrian Ivashkov, the gambler who understands Rose's need for gambling, as he has one too? Or, when she meets Dimitri Belikov, the one man she can't risk losing? Who will help her when she finds herself in deeper debt than even Abe Mazur can pay off?

**I don't own VA.**

**RPOV**

"Bust." I smirked. The corner's of the dealers mouth turned down slightly, though he tried to hide is obvious frustration. I already made about three hundred dollars, but I wanted a drink before I kept on going. I winked at the blue-eyed, blonde-haired dealer who was collecting the cards, then turned and looked at the crowd I always attracted.

"Even one as talented as I am needs a little refreshment every now and then when playing Blackjack, so you'll be seeing me in ten," I announced, rather cockily, over the blaring sounds of slot machines and profanity yelled by those who had lost money, sauntering off to the bar to get myself some good old Jack Daniels. I leaned against the marble bar waiting for the bartender to make an appearance. Soon enough, a girl who looked to be in her early twenties with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes approached and smiled cheerily at me. Her uniform was the same as every other employer except for the chefs and security guards: a white button down shirt with a buttoned-up burgundy vest, tie, and black slacks. Her gold name-tag read _Alisha. _

"What'll it be?" She asked in a tinkling voice.

"A glass of Jack Daniels, please, no ice." I requested, but my eyes were scanning the slot machines, while I started to come to the decision that maybe I had enough of Blackjack for one night.

"Sure thing, Sugar." She said, and proceeded to fix me my drink. She leaned over the counter and handed it to me. I said my thanks and my mind was already drifting from the appeal of the slot machines to the poker table. I set my whiskey down and cleared myself a seat. A snort came from beside me.

"You playing, sweetheart?" a deep and sultry voice sounded from beside me, and I turned to see a sexy smirk and piercing green eyes.

And immediately I knew who this was.

I'm a pretty big gambler, everyone knows this. Everyone knows that Rosemarie Hathaway has money to blow and she loves to blow it here. But after my years of gambling and creating, perfecting, and applying strategies the money stopped being totally blown and only increased. I'm not undefeated. I still lose, on the odd night I have, maybe once or twice a month, but when making a bet or playing a gambling game, I can certainly hold my own. I'd be lying if I said that my name wasn't well-known.

But Adrian Ivashkov?

I'm surprised his name isn't used in _textbooks._

He is totally, and completely undefeated. He has a fortune that puts mine to shame, and I have a lot. My father is Abe Mazur, owner of a few casinos here in Las Vegas, Nevada, and is filthy rich. My mother, Janine Hathaway, had me young and Abe walked out. As I got older, my mother got more distant and decided to follow the dream she had before she got pregnant with me and it so happened that at the same time, Abe decided that he wanted to better get to know his daughter. This was around the time I was fifteen, and since then he's spoiled me rotten. It's his way of making it up to me. I was always quite rebellious, and hooked up with quite a few guys, and gambled. Even though I was now twenty-two, I was still a virgin. But Adrian Ivashkov? _His _father own's more than _just a few _casinos. His father is Nathan Ivashkov, and he owns the large, well-known, expensive hotels with the casinos put inside, like Caesars. As far as I know, he didn't have any family issues, but he was still pretty spoiled. He is the _king _of any slot machine, any table game, and any bets that could be made. The ultimate risk-taker. He goes through cash like he goes through women, and from what I've heard, he's had a _lot _of women. Tramps, high-class, even the biggest prude would drop their pants for Adrian Ivashkov. Who wouldn't, really? Emerald-green eyes, shaggy brown hair, a killer smirk with pink full lips with a prominent cupid's bow, and a swagger that had you turn your head to his presence. But he's also quite the alcoholic, and a heavy smoker.

_And he's here. Playing this table. And you were on such a roll tonight, too, Rose. Wait, no. I'm not backing down. I _never _back down. And, I always have my little mantra for whenever I'm rethinking a gamble, _I don't have anything worth keeping.

I straightened my skin-tight, simple black dress.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"Huh. Long black hair, brown eyes, killer legs, and a bad attitude. You're Hathaway." His eyes trailed lazily up and down, in a way that sent a rush through me that I only ever felt when I gamble. Well, wasn't this gambling now?

"Heavy scent of Cloves, empty beer bottle, green eyes and brown hair. You're Ivashkov." I leaned back and mimicked his movement with the eyes in a show of playful mockery, though it was really a way for me to check him out. Yeah, he's a really lady-killer.

He laughed. A throaty sound that would have been really sexy had it not been tainted by cigarettes.

"I definitely want to get to know _you _more. But first, how about you sit right across from me and we can enjoy a nice little game of poker?" He threw me a wink that was all fox.

I put my head high up in the air and, swaying my hips a little to give Ivashkov a show, strolled right passed the sorry suckers who were also playing at our table, and took a seat right across from Adrian. His poker-face was now on, placed perfectly, and I wanted to see how much I could make it slip. I stretched out my bare leg and ran my high black heel up his designer jeans, then quickly pulled it back down.

His poker face remained the same, except for a small twitch of his lips and a small, quick intake of breath, and I smirked, then graciously took my poker chips.

Maybe I had a chance at winning this.

Though it really doesn't matter if I lose, because it's not like I have anything worth keeping.

**A/N: So. I'm writing a story. The first chapter is not as good as the second one (which I've already started) and it's kind of shorter than what I'm used to writing (outside of fanfiction) but I don't think it's that bad, I actually like it. **

**Now be like Rose and take a chance by sending me a review, you never know, you might win a prize in the next chapter. ;) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Taking Chances – Chapter 2**

**A/N: Please read what I wrote at the bottom, it tells you if this is a RXA story or not...**

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><p>I hissed, actually <em>hissed, <em>like a goddamn _cat_ and slammed my fists on the chips. Adrian's poker face kept intact, except for his eyes, which were twinkling with triumph and amusement. I stood up quickly, making my chair fall back, and started walking away.

"Fuck this. I'm done." I said with aggravation, my fists clenched.

My little running-my-leg-up-his-stunt didn't work. After he caught on to what I was doing, his face slammed in full force. His entire face, every crease and crevice, was still. Emotionless. No twitch of his lips or raise of the eyebrow. No movement in the hands or tap of the toe. Nothing. Nada. A big block of ice in a chair. Bastard. No matter what I did or said, he wouldn't give. Not one little bit. And he was winning. By a lot.

"Fuck this." I repeated.

I found myself at the female's restroom, one with a large, extravagant fountain-like sink in the middle, black marble counters and floors, and a rose-scented air freshener. My heels clicked and echoed across the room as I stormed to the bathroom mirror. I examined my features.

I had large, deep brown eyes, framed by long dark eyelashes and an exotic cat eye. I had full, plump lips currently coated with a clear lip gloss. I had high, well pronounced cheek bones with almond coloured skin and a light, pink blush covering them. My hair was long and curly, in a shade of brown that was so dark it almost looked black, and it was currently cascading down my back. I examined my dress, a simple black strapless number that hugged my pronounced curves and stopped mid-thigh, with a pretty sweetheart neckline. My face was flushed red from anger at my pathetic loss against Adrian, and embarrassment at my outburst.

I fixed my hair, smoothed my dress, and gave a firm nod when I decided that I was going to march up to that pretty-boy Ivashkov and show him that I didn't care that I just faced my worse loss of the month. I walked casually out of the bathroom and back at the poker table where Adrian was laughing in a flirty way with a pretty red-haired female waitress. The rest of the players left, my poker chips were still scattered across the table, and Adrian's back was turned to me. As I approached them, the flirty look on the waitress' face slowly faded away into a look of jealousy, and when I tapped on Adrian's back, a possessive type of anger. Adrian turned around slowly, the red-haired waitress forgotten. She knew she had a job to do, so she collected two empty beer bottles and was on her way. Adrian's eyes trailed, once again, slowly up and down my body, from head to toe. I had a casual stance and air around me, and a small smile on my face.

"Yes?" Adrian drawled.

* * *

><p>"Then he just <em>laughed and walked away!<em>" I was breathing heavily by the end of my little tale. Lissa snickered over the phone.

"I'm sure he-" Lissa was cut off by a faint knock on a hard surface, "Rose, I have to go, Christian's here, I'll call you later, okay?" She said this in an excited rush, and before I could even say a word I heard a defining _click, _telling me that she was already gone. I huffed, once again, thinking back to earlier tonight.

"_Yes?" Adrian drawled. _

_My smile tipped higher, "I just wanted to apologize for possibly ruining your poker game, and appraise you on your poker skills." I said in a very formal way. He raised an eyebrow at my tone._

"_I thought you were 'done'?" He quoted, amused. I clenched my teeth, he wasn't supposed to hear that. After a second my jaw relaxed and the smile was back._

"_I'm never done, Adrian. I'll never tire of gambling." I told him truthfully._

"_Well, then I guess maybe one day I'll see you around? We can have a little rematch?" His tone had taken on a mocking kind of formality, as if a parent purposely told you to apologize to your sibling and you make a big show of it. It was making my earlier anger return. _

"_I doubt it." Is what slipped out, blunt and irritated. _

"_In that case," he stood up from his chair, and reached into the pocket of his light-washed jeans, pulling out a simple brown leather wallet, "let me give you this now." _

_And he proceeded to throw six thousand dollars on the poker table. The amount I had lost. I sputtered._

"_What the hell is this?" _

"_The amount you lost in today's game. Since you doubt we'll be having a rematch, I'll just give the money back as if the game had never happened, so we can play again. It wouldn't be a rematch." He said simply, shrugging._

_My eyes narrowed, "I'm not taking this."_

_He shrugged, as if he didn't care, "Then that little red-head waitress is going to have one hell of a tip, don't you think?" He winked, then walked away. _

"_Wait!" I called to him. Who the hell did he think he was? Leaving six grand around like it was nothing. I mean, to me it_ was _nothing, but still. _

"_Yes?" He stopped, but didn't turn around. He was making his way to the exit. Why was he leaving? It was only ten. _

"_Take it." I ordered._

"_I have nothing worth keeping, Rose." He said, and that had shocked me. He resumed walking, but paused with one hand on the door. He turned to look over his shoulder._

"_Oh, and Rose? Work on your poker face. If you weren't so animated, I wouldn't have been able to get at least a thousand out of you. You're like a comic book with black heels."_

_Then he laughed and left the casino._

And I was here, sitting in my hotel room penthouse, staring at the phone that my best friend Lissa was just on. Lissa has been my best friend since we were in kindergarten, when we were first partnered up for a writing assignment. We had to spell our own names, and in my six-year-old opinion, two girls in junior kindergarten being forced to spell "Vasilisa Dragomir" and "Rosemarie Hathaway" was plain cruel. I threw my book at the teacher and called her a fascist bastard. We have been thick as thieves ever since. Now, I was spending the summer in Las Vegas while Lissa was taking some summer courses back home in Montana. At this moment, I was huffing and puffing about the nerve of Adrian Ivashkov and Lissa was probably making out with her boyfriend, Christian Ozera.

My relationship with Christian was pretty rocky at first. Ever since the fourth grade, Christian has been seen as "unstable". His parents had gone total Bonnie and Clyde and went on a killing spree around the state. Christian had been staying with his aunt, Tasha Ozera, at the time when this had happened, because his parents were already mentally unstable and he was taken out of their care. I didn't know the whole story until a few years later but one day his parents went for Christian, but his aunt had stopped them, his aunt nearly getting killed by her sister-in-law and brother. Her face took some damage, and she has some pretty deep scars, but I've only ever seen pictures of Tasha. Christian has been made fun of and treated like an outcast until Lissa and I reached the age of seventeen, Lissa was partnered with Christian for a Religion project, because Lissa was sick that day and nobody obviously chose Christian. They discovered that they had some chemistry while doing research in the church attic, and that later had bloomed into a full-blown church attic affair. It was blasphemy. Since Lissa was practically my sister, I obviously had to make sure that with the proper precautions, Christian Ozera was deemed approachable.

After getting to know him, I learned that we shared the same snarky, sarcastic personality. He was actually a pretty decent guy, though I'd never admit that to him. He also was very good for Lissa. Anyone who saw them together knew that they would be together for the rest of their lives. They balance each other out perfectly, for Lissa is sweet and kind, with jade-green eyes, and soft blonde hair, and Christian was snarky and only slightly cynical, with jet black hair and bright blue eyes. They were totally and completely in love. They also understood each other in a way that most people didn't; they both lost their parents.

After Christian's parents were arrested for attempted murder (on Tasha), they committed suicide. Lissa's parents, however, died in a car accident. I was in that car, along with Lissa herself and her older brother Andre. We were fifteen, and on our way back to St. Vladimir's Academy, the boarding school we attended. Lissa's father, Eric, looked away from behind the wheel for a moment, and a skunk ran out onto the road. Her mother, Rhea, yelled for him to look out and he swerved and hit a tree. Lissa's mother and father died, and Lissa walked away with a few minor scratches. Andre and my injuries were more serious. Andre lost his memory, and refused to believe any of this happened to him. He now lives somewhere in Missoula. I had a lot of physical damage, like three cracked ribs, a broken collar bone, a concussion, and a broken leg. It took years of therapy and tears, but Lissa and I have now come to terms with what had happened. Rhea and Eric Dragomir were like my parents too, since mine had failed to play that role.

My mother, Janine Hathaway, was Scottish. She was four nine with curly red hair, green eyes and a ridiculous accent. She always wanted to be a bodyguard, but got pregnant with me young. My father is involved with some important business, so he had to walk out, though he sent money and supported her in raising me. She was always a stoic mother, giving me a band aid without the kiss and not having the fake-enthusiasm when shopping for a Halloween costume. She was always half there. Not fully. She did half the duty of a mother, the part where they provide. Not where they care, or love. It was almost as if she wasn't used to doing those things, but I knew better. She just didn't want to. Eventually, she deemed me old enough to live with my father, Abe Mazur, and she walked out to go continue guarding important people.

My father is Turkish, with a burly kind of build and a thick black beard, with hair like mine and eyes like mine, too. When I first moved into his mansion (a _huge _upgrade from the average apartment my mother owned) he welcomed me with open arms. He was willing to take me shopping for a prom dress or give my boyfriends money to take me on a nice date, the whole sh-bang. I was cynical at first, wondering what his little motive was. If the woman who chose to stay behind and half-raise me didn't care, then why would this man, who barely knew me? Apparently, he feels guilty for needing to leave me for his work as a businessman, buying and selling, negotiating and such, all for hotels or casinos. So he let me do whatever I want, and he gave me the money to do it.

Unfortunately, for him, I'm _bad. _

I've mellowed out a bit since high school, but I remember my chair in the principal's office, Ms. Kirova, the pranks I pulled, the guys I tramped around with (never sex, I never "did the deed", but I certainly fooled around a little), and so on. The list of rebellious, bad things goes on and on. Eventually, Abe got tired of it.

Did he send me to reform school?

Did he call in some Super Nanny?

Nope. He did what most people do.

Stopped caring.

And that's pretty much why I'm here today. I decided to gamble a little, because I don't have anything. I don't have a good reputation (outside of the casino), I don't have any money of my own (it's all from Abe), and I have no real plans for my future. I really have nothing to lose. But the more I did it, the less I could restrain myself from doing it.

The calls of anticipation when you're close to winning. The kind when you're playing bingo, and you're chanting "one more! I need just _one more!_" And you're at the edge of your seat and you're _just there, _so close to winning.

The cries of victory when you took a chance, took a gamble, and you won. Some God up there knows what it's like to lose everything so He made something work in your favour. He made you _win. _He put you on top.

The sound of money falling left and right, being won, being lost.

The lights flashing left and right.

The sweat on your palms while placing a bet.

The high you feel.

It's such a rush.

I don't ever want it to stop.

I never had anything to live for. I mean, I have Lissa, and my other friends, but I had no plans for my future. No serious boyfriends, only those in-between guys who you don't really care if you break up with. But when I gamble?

I have something to live for. The rush.

Yes, this is exactly where I am. In this state, at the ripe age of twenty-two, in my beautiful penthouse, staring at my phone, huffing and puffing about the nerve of Adrian-stupid-Ivashkov. And those were my plans for the rest of the night, really.

Until there was a knock at my door.

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><p><strong>AN: And there's the second chapter. It gave a lot more background information, though there are more things about Rose's life that I will explain in the upcoming chapters. Any idea who's at the door? Let me know in a review. SPEAKING OF. That's something that people aren't doing! I've been getting author-alerts and favourited, and thank you for those because they make me feel loved, but where are the reviews, people! C'mon, I love reviews like Rose loves gambling. (For the record, I've never gambled in a casino before. I'm not legal. This is just what I imagine it's like, because I love making bets. ;D) Also, this may not be a RXA story, just because those are the characters. I have some plans for Adrian as well, so that's why he's the second character. I'm a sucker for Dimitri, so he'll most likely end up with Rose, though it's not set in stone. Is that it? No. I also wanted to apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes, because I noticed those in the first chapter. I have no beta. Until next time. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Taking Chances – Chapter 3**

**A/N: At the bottom. :) (and I was too lazy to read this over, so any mistakes you're going to have to deal with, sorry. :P) And I want to thank everyone for the reviews. :) **

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><p>"Explain to me why we're doing this again." I adjusted my scrap of fabric that's supposed to be a dress.<p>

"This is the _first _time I was up to meeting another guy after Aaron, and because you are so amazing and love me so much you volunteered to go out with me tonight." Mia said.

"You forced me." I raised an eyebrow.

"Technicalities." She waved her hand.

I met Mia Rinaldi three years ago. I was spending the summer in Miami, with Lissa, and one night the two of us went to a night club. We didn't like the music that was playing, so we decided to leave early, at about ten o'clock. We were just walking out of the club when we heard yelling.

"_Shut the fuck up! You did it! And you can't deny it! I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, you know that? Forgiving you. I'm _always _forgiving. You're full of nothing but bullshit! Why the hell should I forgive you this time?" a high, female voice screeched. Lissa and I stopped, and stood still. The voices were coming from the side of the club. _

"_Please, babe. She doesn't mean anything, I swear. It was only—" a male voice began, with obvious fake sincerity. He was interrupted by the sounds of heals clicking against pavement, becoming louder as they neared the front of the club. _

"_Where the hell do you think _you're _going?" The male voice bellowed. Lissa and I didn't move to put people to the bodies, for fear of being caught. The clicking stopped._

"_Let go of me, you bastard." The female voice lowered to a more threatening tone. So did the male's._

"_You're not going anywhere."_

"_The hell I'm not!"_

"_Mi—"_

"_Stop!"_

Crack.

_A scary kind of silence fell over all of us after that. The mysterious male, the raging female, arguing at the side of the club. The terrified Lissa, the cautious me, pressed up against the brick wall, the beat of the music from the club pulsing into our backs, one step away from rounding the corner of the building and revealing that they had an audience. Then, after a few, heavy moments, a broken whisper sounded from the woman who sounded so strong._

"_Did you just hit me?"_

_The man was silent. It was a disbelieving kind of silence, the kind that answered her question even though he hadn't really spoken any words. Her voice was still in a whisper, but with every word it got stronger, less broken._

"_Did you just _fucking _put your _hands on me?"

"_Mi—"_

_Then a groan of pain sounded through the alley, and the groan told us that someone just took a hit between their legs._

"_If you ever come near me again, I will fucking destroy you. No man _ever_ puts their hands on me. I'm not the kind of woman who would let you bully and hurt me. Go to hell, Jon, and if you think you're sorry now, I'll show you how sorry you'll be if you come and try to apologize." The clicks resumed, fast and hard, and just as we were about to round the corner a short woman with blonde hair and a black sequined dress shot passed us and ran away, not even noticing we were there. _

_We decided to follow her. _

_She had just stopped at a park that was three blocks away from the club – a pain in the ass in these heels, but Lissa and I wanted to make sure nothing happened to her. We didn't even care about the male. The woman was sobbing on a park bench. Lissa was the gentler of the two of us, so she approached her, a calm, sympathetic air around her._

"_Are you alright? We saw what happened at the club." Lissa began, sitting beside her on the bench. She looked up, but didn't stop sobbing._

_Even though her eyes were red and puffy, and she had snot running down her nose, you could tell she was pretty. She had child-like features, and they were placed to perfection. Like she was made. Like a little porcelain doll. With tears flowing freely down her face, she looked very vulnerable. _

"_You saw? You saw the jackass hit me? So, if I needed to press charges, you would help me out, right?" She hiccupped, looking up at us through little blonde ringlets that had fallen in her bright blue eyes. _

"_We will help you do whatever's necessary, honey," Lissa cooed, touching her arm comfortingly, since she had started to blubber indistinct nonsense. _

"_He—he, he was there, with her, _with her, _like, _in – _in the bathroom, I – oh, God—"_

_Lissa shushed her comfortingly, while I stood in front of them, scanning the abandoned park for the man, or some other person who posed any kind of threat. Soon the girl's uncontrollable sobs and chatter was sobered down to light sniffles._

"_What is your name?" Lissa asked gently._

"_Mi- Mia." Mia said softly, looking down at her hands that were folded on her lap._

"_Mia, who was that man?" asked Lissa, taking control of the interrogation. _

"_My boyfriend, Jonathan," Mia then laughed softly, a sad sound, "Ex-boyfriend." _

"_Can you tell us everything that happened? We didn't come until later," Lissa requested. Mia nodded slightly._

"_We went out tonight, and earlier, we were having a really good time. But then when we were dancing after a while I noticed that he was gone, and I went to go and look for him. I couldn't find him and after a while I had to use the washroom, so I went into the female washroom but on my way there I heard moaning and stuff coming from the single, employer's washroom. I was going to leave it, because it wasn't like it was my business, but then the man sounded kind of like Jon, so I opened the door and he was there, fucking some other girl. In a public _washroom. _While I was in the same building. I left and—and he followed me, then we just argued, which I'm sure you heard. " She whispered, not looking up from her hands. _

_Ouch. What kind of asshole does that? I spoke up._

"_What do you want to do now?" _

_She looked up, as if just noticing I was there, but my tone was as gentle as I could make it, and even though I was wearing a short purple dress, I was tired of standing and sat cross-legged on the grass, not caring who saw what. _

"_I don't know. I can't go back to my place, because we live together." She said to me._

"_You could stay with us. I'm Lissa, and this is Rose. We're nineteen." Lissa offered._

"_So you guys have fake ID's too, huh?" She laughed softly. I smiled._

"_Yeah, we're badasses. How old are you?"_

"_Eighteen."_

"_Nice. You're only a year younger. Would you like to stay with us? We're not from here, and we have an apartment not too far from here." I said._

"_You'd do that? For someone you barely know? And what makes you think that I would stay with you? You guys could be murderers, for all I know." She said, narrowing her eyes at me._

"_Yes, we would. Yes, we would. I think you would stay with us because we're awesome and you would be lucky to spend a night with us. And Lissa's too nice to be a murderer and my dress is too expensive for me to kill you tonight." I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes back at her. _I _was the one with the bad attitude around here, and I'm going to make sure she knows it._

"Rose." _Lissa said sternly. The fire in Mia's eyes increased, and Lissa's tone told me that I should smother it. _

_I sighed. Lissa _always _did this to me. _

"_Look," I uncrossed my arms and tried to keep the irritation out of my voice, "we were leaving and we heard your argument. We just wanted to make sure that you were okay. If you don't want to stay with us, that's fine, it was just a offer. But whether you like it or not, you're not getting rid of us until we're sure you have a safe place to stay. Is there anyone we can call?"_

"_Okay." Mia said. _

"_Okay what?" I asked, not quite following._

"_Okay, I'll stay with you. I'm sorry I was so cynical." She smiled softly, her eyes were starting to look a bit better, and Lissa pulled a tissue from her purse._

"_Hey, if it was me, I would've started getting ready to fight anyone who tried to bring me back to their place." I winked and smiled._

"_We should go, Rose." Lissa stood up, and Mia followed suit._

"_Yeah. Hey Mia. Liss and I brought a big stack of chick flicks from home. You like 'The Notebook'?" We started walking in the direction of our hotel. _

"_Am I female?" Mia snorted and rolled her eyes. _

_We all laughed, and I could tell that a friendship was formed. _

Since then, Mia had ditched Miami and came with us to Montana, and was vacationing with me in Vegas. She had found a boyfriend here, Aaron, but what stupid Mia assumed that it was serious when to Aaron it was really just a summer fling. He broke it off the second he realized that Mia had her facts crooked. She's been depressed ever since, not coming out of her hotel room. We had gotten different ones because Mia insisted that Aaron and her would be "having sleepovers", ones that I didn't exactly want to partake in. But I guess now that she was over it she'd be moving in with me. She had knocked on my door dressed and ready, a short, bright red halter dress and cheetah-printed heels with a red bottom on her petite body. Her hair was pinned up into a messy bun atop her head, and bright red lipstick covered her lips, with very light eye make-up.

And what does she say?

"You have five minutes."

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><p>"Top of the World" by Aitan was blaring through the club's speakers, and immediately Mia screeched "Oh my God, I love this song!" and was off to join the dancers. I laughed and shook my head.<p>

The club was pulsing with heat and music. Bodies on the dance floor glistened with sweat and flashed different colours with the strobe lights. They slid against one another, swaying and moving to the beat. I decided to have a few shots first, then join Mia on the dance floor. I cannot believe she only gave me five minutes. I had changed out of the dress I wore at the casino earlier today, and instead wore a short midnight blue one shoulder dress that fell loose over my body. I kept my hair out and the black heels on, and carried a matching clutch.

I sat at the bar, and signalled for the bartender to come over. I slipped him my cash and ordered a shot of vodka.

I downed it like it was water.

As I did the next one.

And the next.

And the next.

And for the next several after that.

Then I was on the dance floor beside Mia sliding against unknown people. Soon after that I was piss drunk.

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><p>"<em>Taxi. Yeah, yeah taxi. I n- I neeeed a taxi. Uuuh...hey, you! Tall guy! No no no, the hot one. Yeah, can you tell this p-person that we need a taxi!" <em>Mia held out her cell phone, nearly falling over herself, walking up to two tall guys. I squinted. They were guys, right?

Okay, people. Two very tall people.

Or maybe they were trees.

"Yeah, sure," they shrugged and one of them took the phone. He pressed it to his ear.

"They hung up." He stated.

"Sss'okay, Miia. We'll walk!" I said cheerily. I waved at the man who handed Mia back her phone. She slapped her hand against her forehead dramatically.

"I forgot we could do that! Yeah, Rose, let's walk!" She nodded vigorously.

The second tree-person walked up to the one who had Mia's phone and said something too low for my ears to hear. What the hell? That wasn't very nice.

I pouted.

"Y'know, keeping secrets from me aren't very nice. Is it because I'm not tall like you? Is that it? Even regular-sized people have _feelings!_" I whined, "and you really don't have to—Mia? Mia? Hey, where'd Mia go?"

Mia was leaning over a bush vomiting everything she ate in the last twenty-four hours. I giggled.

"Ew, gross." I giggled again.

Then the first tree-person started speaking.

"We're going to take you guys home, okay? Where do you live?"

But I wasn't listening. And Mia was throwing up.

"Mia! _Miiiiiaaa!_ What colour is it!"

"Miss," the first tree-person tried to get my attention.

Black dots were starting to scatter across my vision.

"Mia stop puking and help me, I like something's wrong."

My head was feeling heavy.

"Mia."

My eyes were drooping.

"Mia."

My legs were getting weaker.

"_Mia."_

My consciousness gave way completely.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Most people don't like the fact that in most fanfics Mia is good friends with Rose, but I just love her, she's so feisty. I have to keep on reminding myself that the legal drinking age in the States is twenty-one, so if I ever make a mistake and make Rose not use her fake ID at any age below that, I'm sorry. :P I also noticed I have the same night divided into three chapters, so Rose "went to bed." I've never been drunk, so I don't know what the hell it's like to pass out. Also, I'm going to tell you guys right now, tree person number two is Dimitri. Now click that pretty white button that says review. :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Taking Chances – Chapter 4**

When I woke, I tried to sit up, but my hangover came at me, full force. I whimpered and stayed down. I tried to remember what had happened last night, because after that drinking contest I had with Mia, I couldn't remember anything. I didn't have to worry about Mia because I could feel her body beside me in my bed. I turned my head to the side slightly, got a good whiff of the pillows, and frowned.

_Cologne?_

What the hell? Did a maid lay down on my pillows or something? Why is it cologne, and not perfume? Did I bring a guy home? I was against taking strangers home, and sleeping with them. One night stands aren't really my thing. I shifted a little again; my eyes squeezed shut due to my pounding headache, but then stopped because I heard voices and footsteps. They were heavy, and it sounded like there were two sets.

"What should we do when they wake up?"

"Like I've done this before."

"I think we should just let them go."

"After I get the blonde one's number."

An exasperated sigh replied to that last statement right before I heard the door opening noisily, and light was poured into the dark room. I squeezed my eyes even tighter and groaned.

"Ugh, get it _away."_ I rolled over completely, to try and escape the light.

But of course I just rolled right on top of Mia, and her eyes flew open.

"Off! Off! I said _off, _you cow!" Mia wriggled and writhed like a worm on a hook, in an attempt to get me off. I rolled back and landed back to my original spot with a force that made the springs in the bed protest. A laugh came from the door.

"We have Advil, if you guys want."

"Yes please!" Mia screeched, jumping up, and I covered my ears.

"Mia, volume." I croaked. She looked sheepish.

"Oops. Sorry, Rose."

"Whatever," I dismissed, and heard one man mumbling to the other and one set of footsteps fading down a hallway. I slowly sat up and turned to the remaining man in the doorway.

"Who are you? What happened?" I asked, softly.

"I'm Ivan, my friend Dimitri and I were at the same club you guys were at last night, and you got really drunk. You asked us to call you guys a taxi, but the line went dead before I could ask you guys were to. Then..." he trailed off, looking at Mia expectantly, asking for a name.

"Mia." She said bluntly, closing her eyes and pressing a hand to her forehead.

"Right. Then Mia started throwing up so I couldn't ask her where you needed to go, and when I tried to ask _you, _you passed out. After that Mia freaked out accusing us of knocking you out, but then she blacked out herself. We didn't know where you guys lived and couldn't just leave you, so we let you sleep at my apartment. We didn't do anything, if you want to take my word for it. We just put you in my bed, here in my apartment, and I slept on the couch while Dimitri went back to his apartment. He came back this morning, and at the moment he's in my kitchen finding you guys some advil." Ivan finished explaining.

Huh. Well, that was kind. I smiled at Ivan.

"Thank you, so much. We won't be a bother much sooner, we promise. We'll be on our way now." I started to turn to get a hold of Mia's arm, but she pulled away and looked at Ivan.

"Um, do you think that maybe, I could get that Advil first?" She asked in a small, shy voice.

Ivan laughed, "Sure, no problem."

Then he turned and started walking down the hallway, calling for Dimitri to hurry up and get the pills.

Mia scooted a little closer to me, we were both now sitting off the end of the bed, our legs hanging off. She smiled a lazy smile.

"He's cute, don't you think?" She giggled, then winced from the pain of her hangover.

I shrugged, because I really didn't care as much, "Yeah, I guess."

He was attractive, I had to admit. He had short, bronze hair that fell in messy soft tufts on top of his head and fell adorably into his eyes. His eyes were a darker shade of blue, a very nice colour compared to the usual, lighter shade. His skin was a light colour, in-between being fair skinned and olive skinned, and it went nicely with his features, which were hard to explain. They were very soft for a male, but not in any way feminine. A round, button nose, a softened jaw line, and full lips. He was tall, about six feet, and had an easy-going smile.

"I'm going to try to find a bathroom." I said, then stood up. Mia nodded then lied back down onto the bed.

I stepped out into the hallway, the hardwood floors creaking slightly against my bare feet. The hallway wasn't very long, since it was an apartment, and the bathroom wasn't very hard to find because the door was open, the one beside a radiator. Once I was about to close the door fully shut behind me, I heard footsteps sound in the hallway, and I turned to see a tall figure enter Ivan's bedroom. I shrugged and continued with my business inside of the washroom.

I looked in the mirror to examine the damage the liquor has done to me last night and this morning.

My hair was a birds nest, tangled and interlaced in a way too messed up for words. My eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles under them. My dress was crumpled and wrinkled, and had a little rip at the bottom. I sighed, turned on the water from the sink and splashed some on my face. I wet my hands and ran my fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame it. I smoothed my dress, and moved to open the door to the hallway.

Just as I stepped off the carpet in front of the sink, and onto the hallway floor, the footsteps that had gone into Ivan's room had faded back out into the kitchen.

I wondered briefly who this Dimitri character was. I knew that the footsteps didn't belong to Ivan, they were different, somehow. Sure, in a way. Like they knew where they were going. They were light, and graceful, but carried a silent, raw, confident power. It was powerful, silent, deadly.

I stopped myself.

Why on earth was I elaborating on someone's footsteps?

I shook my head slightly, as to not rouse my headache's pounding further, and walked into the bedroom. Mia was staring wide-eyed at the door, her jaw in her lap with a box of Advil, and two glasses of water in each hand.

I smiled; she looked kind of funny like that, gaping like a fish. Right when I was about to make some smart ass comment, her lips smacked together and she focused on me.

"Oh my God. Rose, did you _see _Dimitri?" She whispered, probably so said person didn't hear and embarrass the both of us.

"No, I didn't. Why?" I asked, moving into the room to snatch the Advil from her lap, the water from her hands, and downed two pills and the entire glass in several seconds. Anything to relieve this headache.

She gasped, rather dramatically.

"Rose, he's _gorgeous._ He's, like, a _god._" Her whisper's volume dropped even further. I rolled my eyes.

"Exaggerate much?"

"Just wait until you see him."

"Whatever," I lamely retorted, and began to look around the bedroom for my heels.

I travelled to the side of the bed farthest from the door, and found my shoes beside the mahogany end table. I raised with my shoes in hand, and was about to start explaining to Mia that we should probably leave now, and how it would seem like we were doing the walk of shame, but then I dropped one of my shoes, and accidentally kicked it under the bed.

"Shit," I whispered, and got down on my hands and knees to retrieve them.

Then the door creaked open.

"Hey, Mia, Ivan wants to know if you guys would like to stay for breakfast."

I nearly dropped to the ground, even though I was being supported by all floors, upon hearing that voice.

Deep, honey-like, and laced with a light accent that I couldn't place right off the bat, but delving deep into my mental language history I could tell it was probably Russian. Whatever accent it was, it made me silently swoon and my jaw go slack.

_C'mon, Mia, respond._

I mentally coaxed her, to say something, _anything _that would make him speak again.

"I wouldn't have a problem with it, just let me ask Rose."

"Sure, no problem."

I sucked in a breath lightly, my mouth slowly closing. He left the room, and I knew this not from the creak of the door, or his eerily interesting footsteps, but because I felt a loss in the room, like a large, loved piece of furniture was moved out of the room. Like everything suddenly got a few degrees colder.

I retrieved my shoe and rose slowly, silently staring at the now empty doorway.

"Was that him?" I asked, quietly, not taking my eyes off the doorway.

"It sure was. Did you see him?" Mia responded just as quietly.

"I didn't, but, wow, that accent." I was stunned.

Mia squealed, like some kind of school girl. I shook my head, trying to clear Dimitri's voice out of my mind, ignoring the pain of my headache, and gestured for Mia to follow me out into the hallway.

As we neared the end of the hallway, where it opened up to the living room and led into the kitchen, I again heard Ivan and Dimitri's voices.

"I'll be back in ten."

"Okay, man."

Just as I entered the kitchen, I saw a door close, and Ivan facing it. He turned when he heard us, a bright smile on his pretty face.

"Eggs and toast?" He offered.

Dimitri had left. In a way, that left me both disappointed and relieved. I didn't know why certain aspects of him, like his way of walking, his voice, fascinated me the way they did. It scared me. I didn't want to see him, for fear of how he in his entirety would affect me. But at the same time, I wanted to put a face to the voice, a body to his step. I wanted to uncover the mystery that was Ivan's friend. I glanced at the stove, and saw the time. It was eleven am, and I felt kind of bad to stay past noon. Mia was about to agree to the generous breakfast Ivan had offered, but I nudged her arm to signal her to stop. She gave me a questioning look, but otherwise halted whatever words that were about to leave her lips.

"Actually, I think we should be going. I mean, we appreciate everything you and your friend have done for us, but I think that we have overstayed our welcome. We don't want to be a burden." I said formally, smiling a friendly smile. Ivan's face fell in disappointment.

"It wouldn't be a burden." He said, hoping to get us to stay.

"We really should be going, anyways." There was a note of finality in my voice, which stopped anymore of Ivan's protests. It also stopped Mia's.

Ten minutes.

Dimitri said he was going to be back in ten minutes.

Which means that we have eight more minutes to get the hell out of here before he comes back.

"We won't let this favour go unpaid, however," I said, because I felt really bad for Mia. She really likes Ivan, "let us buy you lunch sometime," I finished.

Ivan's smile returned, his eyes falling on Mia, and she straightened in happiness.

"That sounds good. Here, let me give you my number," he said, and began to search through drawers for a piece of paper and something to write with. Once he found paper and a blue pen, he scribbled on it his name and number, and handed it to Mia.

"And please tell your friend, ah, Dimitri, thank you as well, and he's welcome to come along." I said, and instantly regretted my words. If I invited him to lunch, or dinner, would he show?

Would he care?

Would he do it because he felt obligated?

Or because he wanted to?

Why did _I _care?

I didn't know the answer to any of those questions. And I wasn't sure if I really wanted to know.

Mia's stomach growled, quite loudly. She blushed.

"I'm sorry."

Ivan chucked.

"I'll be holding you guys to that lunch, but I really do think you shouldn't leave on an empty stomach, at _least _have cereal. Besides, I'm calling you guys a taxi, and you need to do _something _while you wait." Ivan said, reaching into the fridge for a carton of milk.

* * *

><p>Two minutes left.<p>

Never in my life have I scarfed down Corn Pops that fast. Ivan's landline rung, and a voice on the other line had told him that our taxi had arrived. I stood up as fast as I could and grabbed Mia's arm.

Show time.

"Oh my God, look at the time!"

"Huh?" Ivan said around a mouthful of Mini Wheats, looking confused.

"I totally forgot, Abe is going to kill me!"

"Rose, what the hell are you talking about?" Mia was just as confused.

"Mia, we have to go, _now! _Abe was supposed to meet us at the hotel at eleven thirty!" She must have seen something in my eyes, though I don't know what, and quickly started playing along.

"Oh crap, he's going to have our heads!"

"Yes, so we have to _go._"

"So sorry Ivan, we'll call you around three to make plans, okay?"

"Uh, um, oh, okay." He stumbled, looking between the two of us. He started to get up.

"Let me show you out."

"No, that's fine, really, we _really have to go."_

One minute.

_Let's just get the hell out of here, already. _

"B-"

But before he could say another word, I was out the door, Mia's arm held firmly one hand, my shoes in the other.

_go let's go let's g—_

"Oomph!"

I crashed into a wall, and Mia and I both went down.

I looked up, and saw that it wasn't a wall at all.

My phone beeped with a new text message. I didn't bother reading the text, but I had a glance at the time.

_Shit._

Ten minutes were up.

* * *

><p>I scrambled up, brushing off my dress, my shoes on either end of the hallway. Oh, yeah. I forgot to put those on.<p>

"I, ah, um, sorry—"

"That's fine, really. Are you alright?"

Oh God, that voice.

That stupid, honey-like, Russian-accent laced _voice. _

It drives me crazy.

I loved it, almost more than the sound of – no. Not that much. There's no way, that I could possibly love the sound of a man's voice more than the sound of a busy casino. No way.

I looked up, and made eye contact with the most gorgeous brown eyes I've ever seen.

On a male, I've never thought that brown eyes could be _that _attractive. Boy, was I wrong. His eyes were a dark, milk-chocolate shade of brown, framed by impossibly dark, and long lashes. All of his features were angular and masculine, in great contrast to Ivan and Adrian's features. He has deeply tanned skin and incredible height, about six seven.

"I, um, yes, I, we, we're fine. Thank you." I babbled.

Mia snickered, and I remembered that she _had _seen Dimitri before.

"We have to meet Rose's father at our hotel, but we exchanged numbers with your friend Ivan and we agreed that we all would go out to lunch some other time, but now, we really should be going." Mia saved my ass, grabbed my arm, and tried to move into the elevator, but Dimitri hadn't moved out of our way.

His eyes were on me.

"I look forward to that lunch, Rose," he said with an intensity that almost scared me just as much as it sent a wave of heat through me, and Mia coughed, not so subtly, "Mia." He tagged on as an afterthought.

"Yes, well, we _really _must be going now."

"Goodbye."

"Bye!"

And we bolted out the door, where our taxi was waiting.

Usually, when I gamble, there's a feeling that's a cross between apprehension and eagerness, usually when the possibility of winning and losing is of equal measure.

I've only ever felt it when I gamble.

But I felt it now, with the knowledge that I would be seeing Dimitri again, having conversations with him, and it scared me, because I'm not used to feeling this way outside of the casino.

I suppose when it comes down to it, venturing deeper into this odd feeling in everyday life is a gamble too. Some kind of risk to take.

And everyone knows how much Rose Hathaway isn't afraid to take a risk.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: GAH. *Rips hair out* This chapter was sooo frustrating. I couldn't write it. I had no idea of how I wanted Rose to meet Dimitri. I wanted it to be epic, since I wasn't fully happy with the way she met Adrian. It was very abrupt and harsh. I knew I wanted them to keep on **_**just **_**missing each other, but it really wouldn't come together written like it did in my head. I've rewritten this chapter a million times, trying to get it to where I wanted it to be. I listened to "Blinding" by Florence + The Machine to help me out a bit, because you'll find that that song will explain RXD a lot in this story. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting forever, so I just uploaded it. **** Did I do a good enough job? REVIEW, PEOPLE, REVIEW. I need some motivation!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Taking Chances – Chapter 5**

* * *

><p>"In conclusion," Abe dabbed his bearded mouth pristinely with a perfectly folded napkin, "my threats were perfectly <em>acceptable. <em>It was merely a father looking out for his child, was it not?" He inquired.

Mia sighed, exasperated.

"You're delusional."

"I take offence to that."

"Of course you do, old man. Now, let's go over this again. Just because you see some sorry boy ogling me, or Mia, it does not give you the right to threaten them, their families, their friends, _or _their pets. That is _not _an acceptable reason to threaten to disembowel anyone, no matter _how _justified it is in your twisted mind. Got it?"

The note of finalty in his voice was enough to make him pout at me like some teenage girl told she couldn't go out for the night. He wasn't winning, and he knew it. So he changed the subject.

"I called the hotel earlier this morning to check if you girls wanted to go to lunch, but apparently, you weren't there. Where, exactly, _were _you?"

Mia and I exchanged a glance. We were _so _busted. I decided to explain, and turn on the sweet and innocent daughterly charm, although everyone here knows I am anything but.

"Well, Abe," I never called him _dad_, ''Mia was done feeling down over Aaron, so we decided to go out for a few drinks to celebrate. We didn't have a ride home, so we stayed with some friends."

He looked at us for a long, hard while, searching for lies, or more importantly, finding out which truth is the half-truth. We kept our most innocent expressions on our face, hoping he didn't ask for more, like who our friends _were_.

"Alright." He said. Then he looked at his expensive watch and stood.

"It was great having lunch with you two, but I must go, I have business to attend to." He stated formally.

_Like always,_ I snarkily added. In my mind, of course. Abe may spoil me, but you definitely don't defy him.

He has the power to cut my gambling funds.

"No problem, Abe," Mia said nonchalantly, her and Lissa were on a first-name basis with him at this point. He smiled at the both of us one last time, and left the cafe.

* * *

><p>That text message I got actually <em>was<em> from Abe, asking us to go to lunch.

I guess it technically wasn't a lie, since we _did _go and see him. Abe was already at some small cafe, not very far from the Vegas strip. He was seated at a table, his tall, burly frame rigid and intimidating, when all he was doing was casually reading a newspaper. That was just Abe, though: large and rough, predatory and masculine. It was quite scary, actually. He gave off this mobster kind of vibe. His skin was tanned and leathery, with dark hair like mine, curly and tangled. He had a scruffy black beard and dark eyes, that lit up when they landed on us. They were doing that more often, and each time, a feeling of confusion would weave through me.

When I first moved in with Abe and revealed my rebellious side, he stoppe d caring, like most people did, and just let me do whatever the hell I want. But a few months ago, it seemed that he wanted to see me more and started speaking to my friends, and would show concern whenever I stayed out at a casino too late. If he now wanted to care for me deeply like a father does, I don't know why he chose to do it so late. Everytime, though, I'd just shrug it off and act as I normally would. I get my sarcastic nature from Abe, so we have an easy, playful banter going on everytime we speak.

"Well," Mia said, spearing the last piece of lettuce in her Caesar salad, and stuffing it in her mouth, "it's always a pleasure to get a glimpse into the twisted mind of the old man. So, what do you want to do today? My hangover is officially gone."

My phone told me that it was about one in the afternoon, and as much of a party girl I was, I didn't like to waste my days. Living my unhealthy lifestyle, you probably didn't know how many days you had, and I didn't like to spend them hungover and in bed. That was reserved for mornings.

"First, I would very much like to go back to the hotel and get the hell out of this dress, and take a beautiful shower," Mia nodded her head in agreement.

"Then, I want to go to the mall to do some shopping, for I have officially worn every single one of my dresses more than fifty times." Mia's eyes lit up the second I said 'shopping'.

"Well, then, let's move, girl!" Mia snapped her fingers, stood, and did a little twirl. To tease her a little, I leaned farther back in my chair, and sighed as if I was making myself comfortable. Her eyes narrowed.

"I said, _let's move._"

I stayed where I was. She sighed dramatically.

"Fine," she said in a breathy, mocking voice, grabbing her purse, "I guess there goes my plans for taking you to the M&M factory after the mall. Too bad, on most days I'm usually not up for going."

I shot up like a rocket.

_M&M factory? Yes please. _

Mia giggled, "Now you move your fatass. If I trail a few out the door will you follow me then?"

Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes.

She laughed again.

"Okay, let's try this one more time: _let's move, girl!"_

I laughed along with her and sassily walked out of the cafe.

* * *

><p>"How about this one?" I struck a rather provocative pose.<p>

"If I swung that way, I would totally be hunting you down." Mia winked and waggled her perfectly plucked brows.

I appraised myself from the side in the mirror.

"Even if I was straight I'd go for me, c'mon," I winked. She rolled her eyes.

It was about two thirty and we were having some fun in Victoria's Secret. We always did that; found the sexiest, skimpiest, sluttiest lingeri in the store and tried it on. Mia sometimes bought the ridiculous outfits, and I never questioned it, because I really didn't want to know. I never bought any of them I tried on, though Mia always tried to get me to buy a few. I always just shook my head and put the skimpy scraps of clothing back.

I was wearing a midnight blue push up bra that had black lace trimming along the top of the cups, and along the straps. It matched the lacy midnight blue and black thong that has straps holding up navy blue sheer stockings. My legs looked a thousand miles long, my bust was perfection, and the colours complimented my tanned skin tone and dark hair perfectly.

"That is one lucky boyfriend," a female voice called. Mia and I both looked towards the voice, and saw a pretty tall girl who looked to be a little bit younger than us both. She was tall, with dramatic features and soft, chocolate brown eyes that looked strangely familiar. Long, wavy brown hair fell just passed her shoulders and she had an amused smile. Her name tag read _Viktoria._

I laughed, "No boyfriend, just for fun."

"Well then it's a good thing that 'fun' is my middle name," came a voice that most definitely was _not _Viktoria's. My jaw dropped to the floor. There, standing with eyes as wide as saucers, fixed on both Mia and myself, was Dimitri and Ivan.

* * *

><p><strong>IPOV<strong>

The horn blared, and I cursed out loud.

"Stay in your own lane, asshole!" I gritted my teeth and manouvered the truck so that I avoided an accident.

Beside me, Dimitri shook his head.

"Wonder where he got his lisence," I laughed.

He smiled an amused smile, but I knew him well, and could see the relief in there as well.

"Don't think you're off the hook," I warned menacingly. His smile fell considerably.

"Why would I think that?" He said in a slightly nervous voice.

"Because you know that you're going to confirm my suspisions. But I don't see what the big deal is, Rose is _fine," _I drawled.

His jaw clenched, "Don't say that," he commanded dangerously. I felt regret over my words.

"Sorry, but you know what I mean. Seriously, man, I don't see what the problem is. It is so obvious that you have a thing for that brunette, and you barely even know her. Why not just come to the lunch and talk to her?"

"I don't want to talk to her," he was glaring at the road ahead of us. I raised my eyebrows.

"Oh, really, then what _would _you like to do to her?"

"I'm serious," the jaw clenched again.

"So am I. What's your deal? You purposely left today when you heard that they were going to leave, because you wanted to avoid her. Why? I think she likes you. She looked pretty weird when she saw that you weren't there."

I pretended not to notice the way he seemed to brighten at that.

"I'm just not interested in a relationship," he shrugged, but I had a feeling that that was the half truth.

"_Okay, _now what's the _whole _reason why you won't talk to her?" I probed. He'd tell me, I know he would, because, well, when it came to his feelings, he didn't have that many people to tell. Dimitri was an amazing guy, but incredibly shy and kind of intimidating and, as a result, didn't have many close friends. I was one of them so he usually talked to me about anything.

He sighed.

"She seems really confident, y'know? Like she constantly has men falling to their knees for her. I wouldn't have much to offer her, and I'm probably not her type. She's probably into the rich and confident guys. She seems very sincere, so she probably wouldn't go for the cocky type, so it's hard to compete with guys who have depth _and _have every shallow luxury. Besides, I meant what I said before. I wouldn't mind having a relationship, but if I did, my job requires me so much I don't really think that I could give a woman much of what she needs."

I nodded, this was true, his occupation was the reason for some failed relationships.

"Still, I think that you should give it a shot. You aren't that bad, and if she's sincere she'll give you a chance. Besides, I _need _you. I really want to take a shot at Mia. She should walk around with a TNT sign on her," I whistled appreciatively.

Dimitri laughed.

"I'm serious man, the girl is like dynamite." I breathed impressively.

Dimitri shook his head, then fell silent. His phone buzzed after a few moments. He picked it up and started a conversation in Russian, one that I would have understood had I bothered to listen. After he hung up the phone and turned to me.

"Viktoria's shift is ending at three, so can we pick her up?" Viktoria was Dimitri's little sister and I remember, when we all were younger, Viktoria had a crush on me.

"Yeah, sure," I shrugged, then he said thanks and fell silent again, no doubt thinking about the first girl who had captured his interest in a long time.

* * *

><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

Initially, my eyes fell on Dimitri. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his eyes stared at my face for the longest time, which had surprised me, considering I was wearing sexy lingeri. Then, they started to move down my body, a look of lust slowly starting to build as he passed my emphasized bust, taut, tanned stomach, and long legs. I watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed and once again made eye contact with me. When I saw how many shades darker his eyes got, something in the middle of my lower stomach tingled and curled lower.

_Shit. I know what that feeling is. _

Even though it was hard, I tore my eyes away from his and looked at Ivan, who was looking at Mia the same way Dimitri was looking at me. Everyone was silent, wrapped in their own cords of sexual tension, and one look at Viktoria's confused face looking between all of us actually had me doubling over in laughter.

That snapped everyone out of it.

They all stared at me like I was some kind of freak.

But, after a few moments, Mia started laughing too.

As did Viktoria and Ivan.

Dimitri didn't laugh, but he did smile a little, which I found myself loving even more than everyone's hysterical laughter.

We were all red in the face and wiping tears from our eyes about two minutes later.

"_So,_" Viktoria started, addressing both Mia and I, "are you buying the lingeri?"

My original plan was not to buy any of this stuff, but a wink from Mia said that the plans were about to change, because the guys were here. And I was all for it.

"Actually," Mia began nonchalantly, pretending that she didn't notice that Ivan and Dimitri were actually listening intently, because they were trying to hide it, as did I, "we are. We also want the ones we tried on before this, and I think Rose wants that red corset. Don't you, Rose?"

Dimitri's eyes widened then met Ivan's.

_Corset? _He mouthed. I didn't let on that I saw.

I smiled slyly, "Why, of course. The corset is the best part. We also want the thongs and nighties, because it _is _summer, and we couldn't possibly sleep in fleece pajama pants, could we, Mia?"

Viktoria smiled, amused, she must have caught on to what we were doing. I didn't know her, but I had a feeling that if we got to know each other we'd be great friends.

"Well, I don't know, the nighties _can _be for the cooler nights, I suppose. But here, in Nevada, since it _is _a desert, I prefer sleeping in the nude. Rose, you know that."

None of our heads turned as Ivan swayed a little, as if he would hit the floor. I smacked my forehead dramatically.

"Oh, how I forgot, please forgive me Mia."

"It's quite alright. So, how about we give our things to the lovely," she leaned forward to glance at Viktoria's name tag, "_Viktoria,_ and we can be on our way."

Viktoria smiled, obviously playing along, because she knew _damn well_ that we didn't have any nighties in there.

I wasn't lying about the red corset, however.

"Sure," she announced, marching into our dressing room. Dimitri and Ivan were still stunned speechless. She turned to them, as if just remembering that they were there.

"You guys can wait at the front, I'll just ring them up and log out, then we can go home, alright?"

They nodded dumbly.

All three of us marched into the dressing room, where we giggled like school girls and high fived each other.

"We met those guys last night," I said to Viktoria, "how do you know them?"

Viktoria laughed, "Oh, Dimitri is my older brother, and Ivan is his best friend. How did you meet them?"

So Viktoria was Dimitri's brother. That would explain why I thought she looked kind of familiar.

"We got drunk and Ivan let us stay at his place, they didn't want us out on our own." Mia said.

Viktoria nodded.

"Yes, that's something they would do, they wouldn't just leave to girls like that," she said quietly, then she brightened, "hey, do you two want to hang out or something? My shift ends now, and I can send my brother and Ivan away."

Mia and I looked at each other and shrugged. Why not? I mean, Viktoria seemed pretty cool.

"Sure, we're going to the M&M factory, if you wanted to come."

"That sounds like fun!" She said cheerily.

Mia looked scared.

"It sounds fun, but you had better be ready to see Rose indulge in some serious chocolate," she warned. Viktoria looked at me skeptically. I laughed.

"Go hard or go home, Mia," I challenged.

"Babe, I can take _anything _you throw my way," she winked.

"We'll see, but what I want to know is, can Viktoria?" I turned my challenge on her too.

"Bring it," she accepted.

We all laughed together again, Viktoria taking our purchases and Mia and I changing. I had a feeling that we were going to be _great_ friends, and I tried not to dwell too much on the fact that the man who it seemed I had an intense attraction to was her brother.

* * *

><p>A<strong>N: I AM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG, I am writing this story on my grandmother's laptop and she took it away. D: I forgot to tell you guys, that I changed the characters to RXD, because not many people were reading that even though the characters are Rose and Adrian, that didn't mean that they'll end up together. About Dimitri and Rose's first encounter: Yeah I guess it **_**was **_**cliche, wasn't it? XD Ah, well, I'm too lazy to do anything about it now * shrugs*. I'll try to update as fast as I possibly can next, plus I kind of feel that this story is moving kind of slow in certain things and I want it to pick up a bit, which I will in the next chapter. You'll also be hearing from Adrian soon, in fact, Ivan and Dimitri were initially Adrian, but when I wrote it it didn't quite work out that way. Now click that pretty little button that says review. ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Taking Chances – Chapter 6**

**A/N: I feel that the quality of my chapters have been decreasing with every one. :/ I thought that maybe the reason for that was that although I had a general idea of what I wanted to happen in the story and where I wanted it to go, that wasn't good enough, so I wrote an outline of what I want to happen and when so that I can update faster. :) Hopefully that will make me feel better about my chapters. XD Also, reviews make updates come faster. Seriously, guys. Wanna know how many reviews I got for the last chapter? _None. _Yeah. I didn't want to write this one at all, I had absolutely zero motivation. The more reviews I get, or the faster I get them, then the faster and better I write. Really, I did not want to write this chapter at all. Plus, I was working on the outline. I didn't know this story would have so many chapters. XD So, I am going to say: _PLEASE REVIEW._**

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><p><strong>MysteryPOV<strong>

I tried my best to not cough, or react at all, to the heavy smoke filling my lungs. It was made even harder when he blew a large amount in my face before his raspy, commanding voice spoke.

"How much?"

I gulped.

"Sixty grands worth, sir."

He slammed his large hand down on the table.

I tried not to flinch, but I did.

"Sixty grand? _Sixty grand_? That's more than last summer. What the _fuck_ compelled them to lose sixty grand's worth of cocaine?"

"They dealt with Mazur, sir."

There was a long pause.

More smoke blew in my face.

"Mazur, Mazur," he said quietly, calculatingly, almost to himself, "everything's always made complicated when Mazur is involved. The man is untouchable."

Then, he perked up.

"But his daughter...she is staying in Nevada for the summer, no?" he asked me.

"I-I don't know, sir."

"Find out." His harsh voice said finally.

I tried not to flinch. Again.

And again, I failed.

"And what would you like me to do if she _is _here, sir?"

"Come back to me and find out. Now _go._"

And I'd be lying if I said I didn't take off out of there like a bat out of hell.

* * *

><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

"So, you have my number, right?" I asked Viktoria as we walked into my hotel room.

She smiled, "Sure do."

"Good, because the summer is not over yet, and we have a lot more trouble to cause," we all snickered together.

"How are you getting home?" Mia asked.

Viktoria shrugged, "Call my brother, I guess."

_Oh, God._

Her _brother. _The brother who saw me in some sexy lingerie just earlier today.

I shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Well, we're just going to hang out here, so you can call him if you want." I waved my hand, picked up my bags and began to walk into the bedroom to put away everything I had bought from Victoria's Secret and the M&M Factory.

From the other room, I heard my fridge open, which I assumed was Mia, and some a muffled voice, which was probably Viktoria.

First I started with the M&M Factory bag, knowing that sometimes Mia goes through chocolate faster than I do, so I stashed everything in various places of my bedroom. Then, I moved on to the Victoria's Secret bag.

Item after item, by cheeks got redder and redder with the memory of what I've done. What the hell was I thinking?

I mean, first, he meets me when I'm drunk off my ass and then passed out.

Then the next time he sees me, I'm dressed in lingerie.

What does that say about me? How does he see me?

_Why do I care so much?_

I mean, sometimes I actually _do _make an effort to use manners and such, but for the most part, I really don't care about what people say about me. They call me a slut, but I don't really make the effort to correct them.

They say I party too much, but it's not like anyone's told me no.

People can think whatever they want about me. Their thoughts don't really matter to me.

But, for some odd reason, his does.

I want to change whatever thoughts he may have about me.

To him, I want to be more than some party girl.

Though I don't really know why.

* * *

><p><strong>DPOV<strong>

Yes, I suppose one could say that I am socially awkward, and uncertain of what to do in specific social events, but if there are things that I am absolutely sure of, it's my morals.

I know exactly what I want in life, and I know what to steer clear of in order to get it. And who, I know exactly who to steer clear of in order to get what I want.

And I never, until now, had a hard time of doing so.

I didn't care much for my looks in high school, or now, but they musn't be that bad, because I have had my fair share of experience with women. Few of them I actually dated, but most of them were whorish and I stayed away.

My education was always important to me, so I usually stayed inside and studied, which is most likely why I am so socially challenged as an adult. I never really partied.

But now, at the age of twenty-four, my boss Alberta forced me to have my time off as a police officer and private investigator and my friend since childhood Ivan wasted no time in taking the chance by packing my bags and bringing me and Viktoria to Las Vegas with him, where he has an apartment since he visits frequently.

He really is insane.

And here, on the first night, I of course was forced to go out, so I did.

And, to be honest, I actually had some fun.

_When it was time to leave, two girls stumbled out of the club, drunk._

_I rolled my eyes. More whorish party girls. _

"_Hey, you! Tall guy!"_

_They called to us. We both looked at them._

"_No no no, the hot one." _

_I rolled my eyes again. _

_Ivan took the phone, and tried to tell whoever it was on the phone that these two girls needed a taxi. _

"_They hung up," he shrugged._

_They rambled on some nonsense about walking, but they couldn't possibly do that. It was dark, it was Las Vegas, they were drunk, vulnerable, and anything could happen to them._

_I couldn't just let them go. I was raised better that way._

"_I think maybe we should take them to where they need to go," I murmured in Ivan's ear._

"_Yeah, you're right," Ivan agreed. _

_Then a slurred, voice called to me, the voice of the second girl who I hadn't really paid attention too since it was the blonde who was speaking to us. _

"_Y'know, keeping secrets from me aren't very nice."_

_My eyes drifted to her, and I raised an eyebrow at her pout and crossed arms. She was attractive, no doubt, with long, wavy hair and exotic, sharp features, but she was one of those girls who I knew to stay away from, so I said nothing as she whined and ranted at me then got distracted, as drunk people usually do. _

_When the blonde one – called Mia, started to throw up, Ivan spoke up and asked the girls where they lived._

_But then the pretty dark haired one passed out._

_And, after accusing us of murder, the petite blonde passed out as well._

_Ivan caught Mia before she fell, and I caught Rose. _

"_I suppose we just bring them to my apartment, then?" Ivan suggested._

"_Oh, really? I was going to suggest we drop them in the alley a few blocks from here, but your idea sounds much better," I said sarcastically. What, were we going to just leave them here? _

_He rolled his eyes. _

"_You don't have to spout the sarcasm, y'know. Let's go."_

And now, on my way to pick up my sister from Rose's hotel, I couldn't help but think about how soft her hair was when it brushed my arms, how her lips moved when she mumbled and how soft her sigh was when I gently laid her down onto Ivan's bed.

I couldn't help but think about how alluring and enticing she looked when I saw her in Victoria's Secret, and how confident she acted when she was openly speaking the way she was in front of Ivan and myself.

And, as much as I didn't want to, I couldn't help but think that I _shouldn't _be thinking those things.

I should be thinking that she is foolish to let herself pass out in front of two strangers, instead of that she is a girl who needs to be protected from anyone who could take advantage of her in her unconscious state.

I _should _be thinking that she is whorish and has no respect for herself when she was in the store wearing the lingerie, instead of thinking about how good it looked and how it would look even better on my bedroom floor.

But I wasn't thinking any of those things.

I couldn't bring myself to.

And so I faced a conundrum.

Why was I suddenly thinking different of these party girls that were dangerous? I thought of the petite female, of all the other girls in that club. None of them held any appeal to me.

So, was it just Rose?

What made her different?

What happened to my concrete morals?

As much as it killed me, I couldn't dwell on those thoughts for long, for I had another thought swirling in the back of my mind, and it was slowly pushing itself closer to the front of it.

I was going to see her again.

"Dimitri, _watch!" _Ivan's voice cut through my inner ramblings and I swerved the car around another one. I gritted my teeth at the sound of blaring horns and tires screeching.

"What the hell is _wrong _with you?" he spat at me.

"Nothing, nothing. Sorry." I kept my eyes fixed on the road.

"Whatever you say, man." Ivan rolled his eyes and looked out the window.

* * *

><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

"Okay, what do you guys want to watch next? I have the first season of Project Runway, Friends, and-" I was cut off by three knocks on the door.

Mia sat up from her position on the couch and went to answer it.

Standing there, was Ivan and Dimitri.

Ivan smiled big towards Mia.

"Hey," he said.

My eyes drifted towards Dimitri, who was also looking at Mia.

I took the opportunity to look at _him._

His hair was tied at the back of his neck, a few strands carelessly let free. He wore a white button-down shirt and faded blue jeans. I admired his physic and the way his outfit complimented it, though I'd bet that anything he wore complimented his body.

Viktoria stood up, and I did as well.

"Thanks for coming to get me, guys." Viktoria smiled.

"No problem." Ivan winked.

Viktoria began to gather her things, but then Mia said,

"When are we all going to lunch?"

And Viktoria crinkled her nose.

"Lunch?"

Mia nodded. I just stood there quietly, the full first season of _Friends _in my hands.

Ivan shrugged.

"We're free Saturday, if that works for you." He said nonchalantly.

"Saturday at twelve?" Mia suggested.

"Works for us, where do you guys want to go?" Ivan inquired.

"There's a place called Stan's Cafe that's really good." Mia replied. She walked over to the fridge and pulled a sticky note off the door, and a pen from the drawer. She then scrawled down the address to Stan's Cafe. She handed it to him, and he smiled gratefully.

"Thanks," he gestured to Viktoria, "c'mon, let's go, Vik-"

"Wait." I said.

"Ivan, can I talk to you for a second?" I said, not looking at any one else, even though I could feel their eyes on me.

_His, _too, but I did my best to ignore that.

I didn't know why I was doing this, and I briefly wondered if I was coming down with something, because on any other day I probably wouldn't be doing this.

He spoke confusedly, "Uh, sure, no problem."

I walked out of the living room, towards my bedroom where it led out to a balcony. Everyone watched him follow me silently.

"What's the matter, Rose?" He asked me once we were outside.

I fidgeted, and looked out to a landscape that I didn't find beautiful at the moment, though I usually did.

I'm not ashamed to say that I have a lot of pride. I get cocky, but I don't make an effort to change it. I never did. It didn't really matter to me, what people thought, so I never apologized for any wrong doings I've done. I never wanted to. The words tasted bitter and disgusting, and I think I've only ever truly been sorry for anything about three times in my life.

"I, um," I swallowed, and forced myself to meet his confused and curious blue eyes, "I just wanted to say sorry. I wanted to properly thank you for helping Mia and I out and I'm sorry that you had to meet us acting the way we did. We're not always like that, I swear."

_Weren't we? _I wondered.

Then I took another breath and continued on.

"The way we acted was embarrassing and I know that I'm not obligated to tell you anything, you aren't my father, I _know, _but...I don't know, I just -"

"Apology accepted, Rose. Don't worry about it. We all get a little crazy sometimes, and I appreciate your gratitude and remorse," he laughed.

And, suddenly, I felt a weight I didn't even know I was carrying lift from my shoulders.

I let out a relieved breath I didn't know I was holding.

_There is something seriously wrong with me. _

"Let's go back out, okay?" I smiled.

"Sure," he said, and called for Viktoria and Dimitri as he walked back inside.

I stayed outside, staring blankly at the Vegas strip below me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Taking Chances – Chapter 7**

**A/N: I've been looking for someone to beta this story. I actually had one, but then she told me that she couldn't do it anymore. And that's really why it took me this long to update, because I've been waiting for her, but she can't do it so there was nothing to hold me back from uploading this. Anyone up for it? PM me. And to those asking for Adrian: patience, dear one. He is coming. Also, I wrote a one shot song fic called "To Her, Through You" and if I get three more people to review it I may continue. The pairing will be Sydrian. **

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><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

The music gives the room a pulse, the bass making the walls move like they have a heartbeat. I don't mind, though. My thoughts are too jumbled, too angry, too _goddamn wild _for me to pay mind to any neighbours.

I wonder if they're scared.

I wonder if they've noticed that when I play music, it isn't loud, and that I much prefer softer, or more upbeat, mainstream songs.

I don't expect them to, I don't make it a goal to make myself noticeable to them.

But it's impossible for them not to hear the music, that I know, but can they notice how much it differs from what I usually listen to?

Can they notice that this music is screaming, bitter, angry?

Does it scare them?

Does it scare them like it scares me?

How unlike myself I am at the quaking moment?

Usually, when I need to blow off some steam, I'll have it all be spent at the gym. Running, hitting dummies, punching bags.

But I'm too angry for that.

I'm too not-Rose.

I'm too much like the monster I've been meeting more and more frequently, the monster that would hide for two, three weeks, and then jump up and attack me.

Making me wake up in bed gasping, running into my bathroom, dry heaving over the toilet.

The monster that makes my skin go pale and sweat drip down my face and tears leak from my eyes.

I hate this monster.

I didn't know that I was capable of loathing something this fiercely.

I cannot even fathom the absolute rage I feel when I think about how it dictates me.

And there's only one thing that makes it better.

When I walk down a street, and hear the cries of slot machines, I'm given a little reminder that there _is _something that makes it better.

Something that will satisfy the monster in me that prevents me from being at peace.

And, just like that, my anger subsides. Just as the song ends with a final line, though it's not as angry as it was before, now it's just withered, tired, and begging for rest.

_I'll do anything, anything, to stay alive._

_Even give myself to you,_

_Because I don't want to die tonight, baby._

I sigh as I my episode ends, and the bedroom quiets. I take three deep breaths, and climb into bed.

But I do not sleep.

* * *

><p>A fit of adorable blissful giggles erupted once more, making my heart swell with affection.<p>

"Again, Rosie, again!" Fia clapped her chubby hands together, begging for more.

Swallowing back my smile, I pulled my face into the most silliest, unattractive expression I could find.

She cracked up again.

"Alright Fia, I think that's enough, it's my turn now," Mason's voice said, though I couldn't see him on the screen.

Fia put her hands defensively on the screen.

"_I just got on it!" _She screeched.

"You most certainly did not."

"Yes I did!"

"_Fia." _

"Fine, fine!" She sighed, completely exasperated, and I watched in amused silence.

She ran in a direction that I assumed her bedroom was in, and my long-time friend Mason took her place in a black office chair, smiling at me.

Mason was always a good friend, I met him around the time I met Lissa, in kindergarten. He was a chubby kid with messy red hair, blue eyes, and freckles, but he grew to be quite handsome, his hair fading from Ronald McDonald red to a copper, his freckles fading, and his blue eyes were bright and vibrant. Sometimes I think it would be easy and convenient if I we could date, but it was always hard for me when I tried.

"So Hathaway, how's Sin City?" he smirked at me, rocking from side to side in the office chair. I rolled my eyes.

"The same as last summer. How's Michigan?" I smiled at him.

"Boring. But Fia makes it bearable." Mason was visiting his sister and brother-in-law for the summer, and Fia was his niece. She was absolutely adorable.

I giggled, "I'll bet."

Mason laughed, too, then he sobered up.

"Rose, are things really the same as last summer?" he asked. I knew what he was referring to. I shrugged.

"I do it a bit more than I did last summer, but it's just a small change, that's okay."

"_Rose, _it's _not _okay."

I began to grow angry. Who the hell did Mason think he was?

"Mase, I said that I'm fine, okay? Now are you going to attempt a normal conversation with me or are you going to do nothing but sit there and criticize my fucking lifestyle?" I snapped.

He sighed and shook his head.

"Alright, alright, fine. How's Mia?" Mason asked defeatedly.

"She's good." I answered bluntly.

We spoke for a few more minutes but before he disconnected Fia ran up to the webcam and kissed the computer screen. I kissed it back. I hung up, and sighed into the empty hotel room. Mia still hadn't moved back into mine, so I was alone.

I hated when I was alone.

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><p><strong>Andre's POV<strong>

I hate my neighbours. Well, no, I don't hate my neighbours, I hate my apartment. I hate how thin the walls are.

I also hate how my neighbours don't take this into consideration when they smash their headboard against the wall in the midst of their noisy lovemaking.

But I've grown used to it, and know how to block out their screamed profanity and vulgar displays of affection.

And I sleep.

But when I dream, it's not a nameless, black dream that I am used to having.

"_So? Where is it, man?" His deep voice makes my back go straight and my chest puff up; I won't let him intimidate me._

"_I said I'd get it, man, chill. I don't have all of it right now, this was all I could get off of them, but that's all right, isn't it? It's not _that _important, right?" I said in a smooth, calm voice, though I was really trying to make myself appear bigger than I really was._

_It didn't work._

_He picked my up by my shirt collar with one hand and threw me against the wall. With one hand._

_The other hand was reaching towards his pocket, where he pulled out a gun and pressed it to the side of my face._

"_Gal is getting sick of this, man. He wants the full payment, _now."

"_I'm getting the full payment! I thought that you completed the sixth grade? Didn't you hear what I said? I wasn't able to take more than this! Just chill the fuck out, and tell Gal that I'll have the rest by next week." I said in a strangled voice, trying to look down at him._

"_You better." He put me down and stalked away._

_I breathed a sigh of relief, and exited the alley. I was in a dingy part of town, different from the high-class neighbourhood I lived in._

_I needed to find a way to get the rest of the money to Gal by next week._

_Or else I'd most definitely be killed._

_Or worse, my family would be instead._

"Oh God!" a female voice screeched as my walls kicked so hard I thought that they would give in. I was jolted out of sleep, once again, by them, but this time I was actually grateful.

Why did that nightmare seem so...familiar?

Why was I suddenly so terrified?

* * *

><p><strong>LPOV<strong>

When I was younger, my favourite time of the year was New Years and New Years Eve. My parents were really important people, so they'd always be invited to these huge and fancy New Year parties, and my older brother Andre and I would be forced to attend. I'd always be dressed up in a baby blue frilly dress with a disgustingly huge silk rose at the front, and Andre would have to wear a black suit with a baby blue tie. My mother would always look beautiful, in a long flowing gold gown or a short and classic black dress and my father would look dashing in a black suit or sometimes gray, and his hair would be gelled and styled. Andre and I hated how we looked compared to them.

The venue or home or wherever the party was held would always have twinkling fairy lights and soft music and glitter and dancing and laughter, but you couldn't play on anything and there were _never _any other kids there and the food was gross because it was healthy and all of the drinks were alcohol and you could barely dance at how soft the music was. Grown men and women with too much make up on would tower and coo over you, and you'd be left smiling, smiling, smiling, answering every same question with the same answer ("how's school?" "do you listen to mommy and daddy?" "do you and your brother get along?") and all you'd say was yes, yes, yes, and fall asleep on the beige circular stools that every room and party seemed to have. Andre and I hated how boring those parties were.

But then our mother or father would come and gently wake us up because we were never allowed to stay until midnight, and whoever the nanny was at the time would take us home and care for us while our parents stayed at the party.

All of those things were things that I hated about New Years, and I hope I'll never have to relive any of it again, but New Years is my favourite holiday because of what would happen when we went home.

When we went home, we would tell the nanny that we were going to bed, and she would always be too young or too tired to care if we were telling the truth, so she would nod and head into the living room, and Andre would throw me this toothy, childish grin that could light up the half of the world that was dark as if it were midday.

It would make me smile just as big.

We'd run up the stairs, and take off the frilly blue dress and the stupid blue tie and black blazer jacket.

And we'd play our game.

It would be a medley of games, really.

It would start with tag, Andre would chase me into my bedroom.

He'd always catch me, because right before I would be home free and jump onto my bed, he'd jump onto me and together we'd bounce up and down once on my pink canopy bed. I'd be laughing and squealing in a tank top and shorts and socks, and he'd be in his slacks and white button-down shirt. He'd stand up on my bed and look down at me.

Then the game would change.

"Alright, listen up!" he'd yell in a mock rasping voice, his golden hair tangled, single strands back lit by the moonlight streaming into my bedroom, "The raiders have once again been givin' us trouble! It seems we have a _spy _on our ship!"

I'd gasp.

He'd grin triumphantly.

"But _now, _we're going to turn the tables on our spy!"

"Spying on the spy!" I'd yell.

His hands would be thrown up into the air.

"Of course! She is _right _downstairs. Let's go."

And that would be the part where we'd sneak downstairs, keeping low.

The game would change, once again.

Instead of pirates, we'd be spies.

We even had the walkie-talkies.

"Calling Pink Puppy, calling Pink Puppy, the enemy has just walked into the kitchen!" His voice would be muffled by static.

The games would continue, well into the night, but a moment or so before midnight, before New Years, we would go back up into my room.

That would be the only day I would allow him into my room.

I had a window bench, and it would look out over our large backyard with our huge swimming pool with different lights inside and the forest beyond that wasn't our property.

It would look especially beautiful with a full moon suspended in the air.

We'd sit on it, facing each other.

And the games would be over.

I would never forget the box, though.

The box is kept in the bench under the window; the seat lifts up.

It is a worn, brown shoe-box painted in swirls of red and blue and green and girly colours and masculine colours mixed together to make an ugly dark brown, adorned in glittery pink stickers of unicorns and golden crowns, and spider man and bat man and other cartoon characters.

In black, on the lid, it says in big bolded capital letters, _PROMISE._

Our promise box was sacred.

It was special.

The promise box doesn't have many items inside of it, but the items in there are special.

Every year we'd choose one item to put inside of the box, a promise for any year to come.

Our first year having the box, we put a seashell in the box: signifying that one day, Andre and I would explore the sea, like in our pirate game.

Our second year having the box, Andre put his first allowance into the box: signifying that one day, we'd do our best to make our parents proud of us, since Andre was reworded with that allowance for getting above ninety in every subject in school.

Our third year of having the box, we put my first girl scout badge into the box: earned for medical assistance, signifying that we would always follow our dreams, and mine was to become a doctor, and Andre helped me by purposely scraping his knee in front of my girl scout leader.

Our fourth and last year of having the box, we put two rings that were given to us by my parents: signifying that our relationship would be concrete, solid, stable, beautiful, and everlasting.

Any year after that, we didn't put anything into the promise box.

I wanted to put something into the box the next year, but Andre refused, saying that he was tired, he was ten years old, and I went back into my room and cried, clutching the box to me.

The year after that, he had the same excuse. I did the same thing.

The year after, I didn't feel like doing it, either.

The year our parents died, when there was no fancy party to go to, or no nanny required, Andre lost his memory in the car accident.

He never got it back.

He no longer wanted anything to do with me.

So I, at the age of fifteen, walked up to my bedroom the first New Years after my parents had died, and opened up the window seat.

I took out the dusty box with chipping paint and peeled-off stickers, and hurled it across the room.

I didn't want a box filled with nothing but broken, empty promises.

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><p><strong>DPOV<strong>

People say I work too much. I say that I really don't consider it work, because I love what I do. Being a police officer was just as I imagined it to be. Well, not completely. There's still paperwork and slow days and irritating hoax calls but there are some things about the job that I love. My favourite part of it all? The drug busts.

I had this friend, Anya, when I was fifteen. We were very close. We even went on a date, because I liked her, and she did give me a chance but after the date she politely turned me down.

Things became slightly awkward between us when we were alone, but we still remained friends.

A few months after that, her parents divorced.

And when I'd see her at school, she'd be paler and thinner and more erratic.

I later discovered that she was using drugs.

She'd shoot up anything; heroin, cocain, weed, anything that could make her world swirl and feel less heavy.

Her death really got to me.

I never even realized how much I really did care for her until after I lost her.

I didn't have many genuine friends growing up, and she was one of them.

I despise drugs.

I make it my sole purpose to get rid of as many illegal substances that I can, so that maybe, _maybe, _the lack of availability can save someone's Anya. And the feeling of success and triumph and hope I feel when I do a drug bust makes me remember the reason why I came into this field.

Yes, I do love my job, though sometimes it would be nice to have a little break. But just when I was actually starting to enjoy my "vacation", my phone rang, and Alberta's name was on the screen. I sighed and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, is there something wrong at the station? I can't exactly jump on a plane right now, but I'll help as much as I can."

Alberta laughed.

"No, nothing's wrong at the station, and, listen, I really don't want to disturb your vacation, God knows you deserve it after Romero's bust, but..."

She trailed off. Romero was a gangster that was locally dealing marijuana to nearly every dope user out there. He wasn't that big, it was only local and marijuana was one of the weaker drugs, but we'd have to take teenagers down to the station more often than we'd like and where he dealt and kept everything was a bitch to find, but with some help, I managed to find it, bust it, and put Romero in jail for eighteen months, since he was a low level dealer and it was actually his first offence.

"But what?" I probed.

"Well, Gal and Vik have been acting up again. Some gang action going around. No murders, yet, just small theft and one civilian got assaulted, but you and I both know that their only just starting to cause some trouble and the deaths will come soon, if we don't stop them first." She explained.

"Why are they acting up now? And are they in cahoots or something?" She snorted when I said "cahoots".

"We don't know yet, we see evidence of both of them, since their 'styles' are so well-known and different, but whether they're working together or some big war is coming up, one thing is for sure: we have to stop it." She replied.

"Any dealings?" I asked.

Alberta whistled, "You have no idea, Dimitri. Do you have any idea how many people we've arrested? For fights, being high, selling second-hand. And it's not just drugs this time, either. Human trafficking, two different kinds of girls walking the streets, Dimitri: Vik's and Gal's. It's bad. They're not regular prostitutes, looking to provide for themselves or their addiction or whatever. They're selling like the money isn't even for them. It's crazy. We _were _having Spiridon look into it, but it's no longer here, in Pennsylvania. Things are more sparse here, though there is much illegal activity. It seems that the activity is spreading throughout different states. We know there are some of Vik's men in Georgia. A friend who works in New York called me and said that he saw one of Gal's prostitutes in Queens. And, today, we discovered some dealers from Vik and prostitutes from Gal in another state: Nevada. And isn't that where you are?"

"How should I look into this?" I asked.

"Nothing too serious yet, just keep your eyes open for either one of their workers, you know what they're like," she advised.

"Yeah," I shook my head though she couldn't see it.

"Also, keep your ears on the name Mazur," she added.

It wasn't a name I heard before.

"Mazur? Why?" I asked.

"I don't know, I don't know anything about it, I just know that he or she is involved and we need anything to give us some insight on what's obviously happening."

"Okay, Alberta."

"Take care Dimitri, I'll call soon to check in, okay?"

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

I hung up and sat back against my car, where I was waiting to pick Viktoria up from the mall. Again.

* * *

><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

Britney Spears loudly told me what someone was calling from the couch where my phone was sitting. I ran over to get it.

"Hello?" I asked, not bothering to look at my caller ID.

"Rose?" Viktoria's voice asked loudly.

"Um, yes?" I asked innocently.

"Alright, I know this is awkward but...do you like Ivan?" She blurted.

In the background, I heard lots of honking and screeching tires.

Russian profanities were yelled by Viktoria.

A deep mumbling was in the background but I couldn't make it out.

I was kind of confused.

"What do you mean? Of course I like Ivan. He's a cool guy," I answered.

"No, I mean, in a 'jump-his-bones' sort of way," she specified.

I'm sure my eyes bugged out of my head.

I heard a gasp in the background.

Then I laughed.

"No, Viktoria, I don't want to jump Ivan's bones. Don't tell him that. The size of his ego is kind of charming. Why are you asking?"

"Oh, because, you wanted to speak to him at your hotel and all..." she trailed off.

"Oh yeah, that, um, I just wanted to thank him for being so kind to Mia and myself and I wanted to apologize for him meeting us in the way he did. You should have been there. It was kind of humiliating. We were really drunk." I explained.

When she spoke, her voice held different elements composed of relief, disappointment, and triumph.

"Thanks for clearing that up. I know it's non of my business so you have no right to tell me, it's just that –" she was cut off by an "ouch!" and a low "don't go there" from a voice I still couldn't make out.

Now she sounded like she was in pain, "thanks again for clearing everything up Rose, I'll talk to you later, bye!"

But before I could get the "b" to leave my lips, I heard a defining _click _telling me that Viktoria was gone.

Well, that was strange.

I thought that my day was going to be normal after that one phone call, a chill day, but then unexpectedly, it happened.

The small, wanting part of the monster hiding within me started to nudge, politely letting me know what it wanted.

Even though it was groggy from slumber now, it would be coming at me full force in a number of minutes.

It'd be slamming itself against me, roaring in my ears.

I didn't want that to happen. I wanted to quickly lull it back to sleep so I can pretend that it doesn't exist, even for a little while.

So before I knew it, my feet were in my shoes and I was running towards the nearest casino. I wasn't going to fight what was coming.

But if I had known I would run into Adrian Ivashkov, I would have at least _tried. _

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><p><strong>Review please. :)<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Taking Chances – Chapter 8**

**OKAY GUISE, so I finally got a beta. And let me just say, she's awesome and amazing and all that good stuff. Seriously, I didn't realize how much this story could be improved until she sashayed into my life and made everything sexy. XxDeadlyBlackRosexX. Thanks to her a bunch. :D**

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><p><strong>MPOV<strong>

I never classified Rose as an addict. I just couldn't, since I knew an addict; dated one in fact. Jason. He wasn't one when I dated him, but his mother had passed away and that caused him to do some jacked up shit, like decide that he wanted to grow up on heroin. Yeah, who wouldn't want to be raised by horse, skag, hell dust, smack and thunder? Inject that stuff in your veins, who cares if they collapse? Jason was gorgeous, when I first started dating him. I would always swoon over his shaggy blond hair, and his light brown eyes that would sparkle whenever we flirted. Jason was a very bubbly person and very fast moving, he always loved to do things that were fast and fun, like sports. But through several months, he slowed down. Because that's what drugs do. A little bit; a little high, can speed you up, make you jumpy, but, overall, it will slow you down. He stopped having interest in the sports he used to play, like soccer and volleyball. After that he didn't socialize as much.

He never came to me. I don't know why, but he didn't. I never approached him. I don't know why, but I didn't. I think I was scared; I had really liked him and I was too scared to accept that I was involved with such a terrifying concept. We broke up eventually, a mutual decision, but I would see him around, and his "condition" would be worse. One summer he disappeared, and I was told that he was at some rehab centre in California, getting clean. Well, good for him. I hoped that his blond hair would become shiny again, and his eyes would hold the life they once did.

Unlike Jason's, Rose's eyes always have life. I know that people can be addicted to things other than drugs, but surely Rose can't be addicted to her gambling, because, well, she's Rose. Ever since I first met her, in that park, Rose has been strong and in control and confident. She's also always been beautiful; things that an addict is not.

But ever since Rose accepted me into her life her friends have been questioning me about her lifestyle; they were concerned. I never took any of it seriously, as I said before, because Rose just doesn't seem like an addict to me. Her eyes are too full of life. I'm not worried.

But when I enter her hotel room, and she's not there, things overturn in an obvious rush to escape something. I can't help the dark, worried emotions churning in the bottom of my stomach.

I know exactly where she could have gone without brimmed in my eyes at the thought.

But no, she wasn't like Jason. She wasn't an addict. She wasn't like any of them. Rose is healthy. Her eyes sparkle. They have life. There's nothing dark in them.

_Is there?_

Then the tears spilled over.

And the door- which I had left slightly open- opened further.

"Hey Mia, I'm sorry but Viktoria left her phone-" Ivan's deep, sexy voice cut off when he saw me standing in the middle of the room, alone, with wet cheeks.

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><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

This is fucking glorious.

It is so fucking pure. It was wonderful and intense; I couldn't even describe it in a way that would do it justice!

The first time you try a drug, like cocaine, it's amazing. The second time, it's time after the first time is terrible, yet you do it anyway, because you're chasing the first high. You always hope you get it.

But you never do.

Yet every time I do this- something just as taboo as trying a drug- it's like someone took hold of the world's axis and yanked it away, leaving the world tumbling and spiralling into nothing. It can't stop, which is just as good, because I don't want it to. My sentences don't end, my thoughts are one endless circle, a solid, unbreakable band, spinning and spinning but I don't care.

Why would I care? I don't have a fucking care in the world.

"_I love the fruit machines!" _Adrian screeches loudly at the slot machine beside me, making me jump slightly in shock.

Oh yeah, Adrian. I had forgotten he was here.

I turned to him for a brief moment, noting how the fast moving lights of the machine in front of him made his green eyes light even brighter than they were.

I studied above the winning line curiously.

_.Half of a bar._

"Fuck! _So close!"_I cried angrily, throwing my hands in the air.

We were playing the fruit machines at a popular casino. A fruit machine was type of machine that is slightly more complicated than a slot machine. It actually requires a bit of skill, but you still need a whole lot of luck. Unfortunately, I didn't have any this round.

I wanted to go again, to gamble some more, but then Adrian didn't seem to agree. He looked at his expensive watch, grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards the bar. I didn't complain because I didn't mind getting a drink. Except we didn't go and get a drink. Instead, we went past the bar, into a section obviously meant for employees only, and up a sketchy flight of stairs.

"Um, Adrian…" I trailed off in confusion. My voice echoed throughout the dimly lit cement stairwell, bouncing off the walls eerily.

"Where are we going?" I asked curiously. I wasn't scared that Adrian would harm me, or do something against my will. He didn't seem like type of person. Not that he _could _harm me, because Lissa and I took a self-defence class four months ago.

"You'll see." Adrian sounded excited, but not in a psycho-about-to-attack-a-victim kind of way, but in an adorable, childish kind of way. It was contagious; I liked surprises.

I wasn't wearing heels, like I usually was when I went to go and gamble. I wasn't dressed up at all. I had forced my feet into some worn red sneakers and ran out of the hotel, dressed in denim shorts and a plain white tank top. My hair was in a messy bun that I did when I entered the casino, to control the frizzy mess. My casual attire was coming in handy at the moment, because it was a lot more comfortable than what I normally wore. Even though it _is_ easier, by the time we reach the top we are breathing heavily, a very thin layer of sweat covering both of our red faces.

"Maybe we shouldn't have run," I let out a breathy laugh, gasping in between each laugh.

Adrian laughs as well and even though it is raspy and he is panting and bending over, it gives me a pleasant feeling and makes my smile slightly larger, but only slightly.

He straightens up, "If we didn't run, we would've missed it." He clarifies.

_Miss what? _I wonder. But before I can ask, I note that the whole time he hasn't let go of my hand. He still hasn't now, standing here.

I let go for him.

His expression flashes to something unreadable for just a moment, but just as quickly as that unreadable expression came, a new one replaced it. His handsome face lit with excited happiness, he checks his watch again and puts his hand on a cement door.

"Come on," Adrian entices. He looks so sure, so eager; I can't say no. He pushes on the door and the dark, cold, grubby staircase is filled with a light that irritates my eyes. It takes a while, but eventually my eyes adjust. He takes my hand again, and a surge of giddy giggles ripples through me as he leads me into the daylight.

We're on a roof.

* * *

><p>I don't think I've ever seen such so many shades of orange. And if I have, I don't think I've ever seen so many of them merged together so flawlessly. A seamless blanket of orange was thrown over the sky, a myriad of oranges blended into one another in a perfect gradient.<p>

I have never thought that Nevada's landscape was anything that held such wonder. It was desert, piles of sand. And I'm sure that even after what I was seeing now, it still would be. I still don't think it's much.

But the sun! Oh, the sun is what makes what I'm seeing so enchanting. Because there, suspended halfway down the blanket of orange is a large glowing ball, slowly starting to set down under the piles of 's a moment of anticipating silence that falls over Adrian and I, then it starts.

The ball of fire glows and changes, and colours in the sky slowly transform from orange to pink to purple and then to navy blue. I'm so mesmerized by everything; by the way it all meshes together like a skillful artist took each colour and splashed it onto a blank canvas, where together they danced and intertwined until there were stars, twinkling, smiling. Then the sun leaves and it is all replaced by black.

* * *

><p><strong>MPOV<strong>

Ivan hands me another tissue. I blow my nose in a very loud, unladylike manner.

"I just won't accept it, you know? That's not Rose. Rose can't be that way. I won't believe it until I see her like how Jason was. Like how people are in the movies and on the streets." I hiccupped as I finished my sentence, wiping a few tears from my eyes.

Ivan put his arm around my shoulders, and I shivered from it, and I wasn't cold. I leaned further into his warm embrace. I felt safe; his presence comforted me and took away some of my worry for Rose.

Ivan's voice was soothing when he finally said something after my whole rant about how Rose had probably ran to a casino, without telling me.

"Maybe you should confront her about it. Addicts usually deny they have a problem and get angry when someone they care about questions them about it. Tell her how it bothers you, and if she apologizes and makes an actual effort to cut down on it then she probably isn't addicted. If she gets angry, or brushes it off and continues or gets worse, you should probably take more action. Wondering won't help, Mia. Get right to it." His arm around my shoulder tightened.

"I-I know, but–" I cut off my useless stuttering, not wanting to continue. I turned my tear-streaked face away from his gorgeous, exposed one. He put a warm, delicate hand under my chin and gently turned my face towards his.

"But what?" He prompted softly.

After he found me in Rose's room crying, he dropped what he was doing and his arms encircled mine. He didn't speak, didn't say anything; just held me while I cried. And I liked it. I liked it more than I thought I would, because Ivan is so different from anyone I've ever been attracted too. He's tall and has some muscle, but he's so soft; so delicate, like a boy who's been pampered his whole life. Prince-like, in a way, but harder than that. It was so complex, my feelings about him, something I wasn't used to, because I was blunt. I was brash, straightforward, tough, and almost black and white.

And when I was confused or scared I didn't talk about it with anybody. I didn't need to. I would sort out my feelings eventually, and deal with them. When they were dealt with, I'd go back to being the Mia I was used to, simple.

But I forgot all of that, and looked right into the infinite blue of Ivan's eyes. I then spoke in a soft, shaky voice I thought I had forced incapable of coming from me. "But I'm scared." And if it was even possible, Ivan's grip tightened even further without hurting. It was comforting, I didn't want him to let go.

* * *

><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

The casino was one of the larger ones. It wasn't a big name, like _'Caesar's'_, but it was almost the same size, if not larger. I don't know how I ended up at this particular one, but I did, and there I ran into Adrian Ivashkov. I was the one who invited him to gamble with me when I saw him. I was over what he did with the money, though I thought it was an extremely cocky thing to do, but I was only going to do it for an hour or two anyway. Just a little bit. Not to fully satisfy the craving of gambling; just to ease it a little. But eventually two hours turned to three, then to four, then to seven, and here I was standing with Adrian Ivashkov on a thirteen story roof in an illuminated night.

"You know," Adrian said, still staring at the sky, though the show was way over by now, "I don't think I've enjoyed a show like that in a while."

I smiled at him, "Amazing doesn't even seem to cover it."

It was quiet up here. The noise of nightlife was muffled by distance, since we were above everything, but I could still hear it, and it was every bit as beautiful. Adrian's voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he said,"I wasn't talking about the sunset Rose. I see that every night. I was talking about watching you."

That statement made me frown, "You were watching me?" I asked.

"Yes. I wanted to see your reaction to it. And let me tell you, I wasn't let down," I would have expected something like that to be said in a joking manner, maybe with a snarky wink, but he seemed genuine.

I blushed and looked away, thankful for the , Adrian seemed very close, and even closer when he leaned into me, still turned away from him, and put his lips to my ear.

"Rose," his hot breath tickled my ear, "did you know that when you watched that sunset your face lit in the most beautiful of ways? Not only in happiness, but from the colour; you glowed. It was positively breathtaking."

I gulped loudly.

_Oh hot damn._

"No, I did not," I said in the most casual voice I could muster.

He laughed, and I turned to look at him, and when I did face him I smelled alcohol on his breath. Huh. I didn't smell that before. Was he drinking? Wait – was I drinking too?

I thought back to the night, which was blurry since it went by so fast.

"Adrian," I asked, "am I drunk?"

He raised an eyebrow, "I think you are, since you're slurring and your eyes are drooping."

The run up the stairs made me feel so sober. The sunset made me feel so calm. I don't even remember drinking. Before the beautiful show, courtesy of the sun, all I remember were the games, but when I delved deeper into the past day, I remembered being offered drinks, going to buy some on my own, taking a drag of _something _offered to me.

I giggled in a girly fashion. Wow, I did that a lot today. I had a lot of fun with Adrian. More importantly; the monster in me was now easing off slightly. I wonder for how long though? Maybe, to hold it off longer, I should take one more risk before leaving?

"Good," I answered. Then I pulled Adrian to me and crushed my lips to his.

* * *

><p><strong>POV: THIRD PERSON<strong>

Mia sat on Rose's couch, tapping her foot had long since left after their deep and very helpful discussion.

The door opened quietly as Rose quietly entered her hotel room and jumped slightly when she saw Mia, but otherwise shakily smiled.

"Rose, we need to talk," Mia said seriously.

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><p><strong>AN: I recently gained a few reviewers and I don't know how, but I want to thank them and the people who were there from before. :) I'll start thanking them individually.**

**I don't like third person too much, so you won't see much of it.**

**And I'm grounded from my laptop so I don't know when I'll be able to get the next chapter up.**


	9. Not Really Chapter Nine

**A/N: I'm just writing this because I'm trying really hard to get back into fanfiction...a lot is going on irl right now and I've tried focusing on it but the more I stress on it the more shit is going on and I feel like if I have at least one thing to lose myself in for a little while then that will help me, and if it has to be fanfiction then goddammit it's going to be fanfiction because I say so.**

**I'm working on the chapter, I had it written but I lost it and then life went batshit and got mad at me and yeah. So there's this. Enjoy and don't expect from me soon but expect from me. (oh and if any of you are assuming I'm dealing with addiction because of this story or whatever, I'm not. Not any kind, the only thing I'm really addicted to at the moment is Garrett Hedlund. Hold. Me. Down.) Also, I don't think this chapter takes place right after the last one...I'm not sure yet. You'll find out, I don't think this really counts as a chapter, I'm just letting all of you know that I'm not six feet under yet, and trying to get back into things.**

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><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

_Control is fictional. It's deceiving. Control is not real. It's something that we strive for, dream of, desire, covet, but it's never something that we will ever really have. A force will always be greater than us. Sometimes, it's love. Other times, it's fear. Most times, it's any kind of passion. _

_In unfortunate times, it's addiction. _

_And the only thing that all of us really have in common is we fool ourselves into thinking that we have complete control. _

_We don't, and the day we'll realize it will be filled with nothing but heartbreaking realization. The unfortunate thing about it is, it will rip you apart. It has to happen, it's inevitable._

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><p>"<em>Fia, Fia, shh, it's okay, I'll replace it, just –" Mason's cooing, soothing voice was cut off by Fia's wails.<em>

"_But it won't be the _same!" _She screeches. It's heart breaking, her airy little voice squeaks and cracks and is a pitch higher than what it normally is. _

"_It was only five dollars, I will give you more, Fia!" Mason tries to be patient, but he's getting exasperated. _

"_But I earned it myself! I was finally allowed to do something on my own and now my hard work is _gone! _It isn't fair! It isn't fair, it isn't fair, I worked so hard it is not fair. Where did it go? Who took it, May? Who did it? I want it back! I worked so hard, and now it's all gone. It isn't fair, it isn't fair, it _isn't fair-"

_I can't hear anymore. _

_I can't hear her disappointment. _

_I can't hear her despair at getting the first kind of financial earning stolen._

_Because I took it._

_I know exactly where it went._

_It went into a lost bet. _

_I made the bet and didn't have the money and it was just sitting there, and I knew what she did for it because when she got it she ran to me and her excitement, oh God, I can't, I can't, I _can't -

_Why did I take it?_

_I wouldn't have taken it on another day._

_Because I can't help what I do. Not anymore._

_Not when I'm in desperate need of a fix. Of a rush._

_Damn, I know I'd take a thousand dollars from her now and spend it all on a game. _

_I can't stay._

_I can't be here._

_I can't do this._

_I am not myself._

_So I run, and it's in the direction of darkness. Not literally, because when I run there are flashing lights and smiles and dice and drinks and music and money – holy shit, look at the _money –_ and something even worse, drugs and weaponry. Sometimes, people bet with their lives. They play games, take high chances. Someone must be betting on something serious. Taking a real gamble. A dangerous one. _

_And I run straight into it because I am not myself._

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><p>"Holy fucking shit, it was the father all along!" I awake to hear Mia scream in another room. I roll my eyes. I assume she's watching television. I roll over in bed and try to block out my nightmare. After all, that's all it was. I'm not in any <em>real <em>danger. I wouldn't hurt Fia. I have total control over all of this.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: OKAY NOW THE REVIEW RESPONSES I PROMISED BECAUSE I REMEMBER THE SHIT EATING GRIN ON MY FACE WHEN I READ THEM. OH, YES. OKAY LET'S GO:**

**NellyRose1994 – **whoa, whoa, wait. Take out your text book, turn to page thirty-six and let me tell you something: I will never abandon this story. Ever. I'm sure I'll want to in the future but this is my first full length story and I don't want it to be something I abandoned. This story will be finished. I'm so glad you were concerned for it though. :) And the fact that you have suggestions, makes me extremely happy because I love that someone would take that step. I'll consider it, but that scenario seems a little common in the VA archive...there will still be tension so don't worry. I don't think their first encounter in this story will be expected. xD

**Sam – **yeah, he should. He's an ass...as of now. ;)

**Lovingbites – **dear I can't tell if your reviews are positive or not but thanks for reading and Rose is not on drugs. :)

**– **oh, just. Just let me love you. Thanks for the compliments on the plot, I was unsure of it tbh.

**Majic91 – **This. Freaking. Review. I can't. Omfg, I blushed so hard because I thought this story sucked and that's why I wasn't getting reviews but thank you I just ugh bless your family have my cat ok djbfskdjbsdklb (I don't have a cat but)

**rockiet – **honey, I'm not looking for praising. I'm looking for feedback. xD But thank you so much, it means a lot. And I can't remember what threats I made to non reviewers but I don't know where you all live so don't worry.


	10. Chapter 9 (10 if you count the last one)

Taking Chances – Chapter 9

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><p><strong>AN: I told you all I would be back *dances*. Okay, so that last scene I posted can take place...right before this. Right after that. Whatever, it doesn't really matter when it takes place, I just thought it would be more consistent and easier on all of us if I just posted everything in order. If I ever decide to write outside of this story, like scenes you wanted to see but I never actually put in this story, or back stories, or whatever, I will post it separately. This chapter is kind of short because I find I put too many POVs in one chapter, and I'm going to try and keep it to one or two, and Rose's life is going to mellow out...for like an hour. Whoops. This chapter isn't beta'd, and the few future chapters will not be beta'd, sorry about that. Because you all know I'm far too lazy to check for mistakes so there's probably tonnes in here.**

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><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

I felt like crap by the time the next morning came. I didn't exactly go to sleep in the best mood, not with the knowledge that Mia and I argued last night.

* * *

><p><em>Cautiously, I stepped into the living room, not liking one bit the somber look on Mia's face.<em>

"_What about?" I asked slowly. _

"_Where did you go?" Mia asked accusingly. _

_I raised an eyebrow. _

"_I went to the casino." I said, innocently. _

"_Without telling me?" Mia cried. _

_I snorted. _

"_Excuse me? Since when were you my mother?" I said disbelievingly. _

"_That's not the point. You can go wherever the hell you want without telling me. But not this late. I was worried fucking sick. Do you know how long you've been gone? And not only that, but when I came here the place was in complete disarray! And how does that look? Since you usually tell me when you're going somewhere. You disappear, for almost an entire day, not answering any of my texts or calls and you leave half your hotel room a mess. C'mon, Rose, not cool." _

_I could see her point, but that didn't dim my annoyance much. She didn't have to be this worked up. But I was so tired. I was doing so much, all day, and so much had happened, that I wanted nothing more than to sleep. _

"_Alright, fine Mia, I get it, I won't do it again. I'm going to sleep now, okay?" I said wearily, and began to walk towards my bedroom. Mia stiffened. _

"_Wait, but – aren't you – " she stammered. _

"_What?" I turned my upper body towards her. _

"_N – nothing, never mind, just sleep." She said sadly. _

_Okay? _

_I waved my hand. _

"_You know what? I'm not even going to question it." _

_I continued my way and Mia did not pester me for the rest of the night. _

* * *

><p>When I first woke up, I was fine, but when I stood up I felt heavy, and I wanted nothing more to fall back into my bed but I could practically taste my morning breath and it wasn't sweet. It took a lot of effort to swing my legs over the edge, and when I tried to stand on them they felt numb. So numb, in fact, that I guess I forget how to walk because when I tried to step from my already shaky stance I fell over, and I was so heavy I didn't bother trying to make myself get up. I laid there for a while, quite content being useless on the floor until a snort from Mia made my heart jump.<p>

"Alright, well, I was going to tell you to get your ass up because we're going for gelato, but I can see you're busy getting to know the floor. I'll come back later," she concluded and turned to leave the room.

"Oh, just shut up and help me," I tried to say with power, but I was too busy reaching over to slap my legs into alertness. Mia sighed and walked over to me, but instead of taking hold of my hands and hauling me up, she laid down beside me. She laid on her back and turned her head towards me, a gentle expression on her doll-like features.

"You know I love you, right?"

"If you really did you would help me get up."

"I'm being serious. I apologize for acting like I was your mother yesterday, but you have to understand that I care for you and I don't want anything to happen to you. From the day we met you looked out for me, we met because you looked out for me, you and Lissa, and I want to do the same. So, please, leave a note or something next time?"

I took a moment to consider what she was saying to me. Was it that big of a deal? One day, I was gone for one day, and I wasn't anywhere new, I was at the casino. Though I could understand her reaction. Mia had lost a few people close to her, and the fact that she was worried this much about me warmed my heart. I don't know what I would do without Mia and I guess she didn't know what she would do without me. Especially here, in this city that isn't familiar enough to her. Yes, she comes, but more often than not with me or Lissa, and she's become a big part of my life. Mia Rinaldi is daily and important and she won't be going anywhere. If she wanted to go to anywhere that I knew was much too dangerous for her, I'd tie her down and throw her in my closet. She could take care of herself, she wasn't a baby, but everyone had a match and Mia would not be facing hers without me. I guess I didn't stop to consider that it went two ways. That she was not only that important to me, but I was that important to her. Yeah, I guess if you look at it a certain way she overreacted, but it just shows she cares for me. She cares about what happens to me. Not many people ever care for me, not many people made me feel like there was something in me worth caring about. Next time, I would let her know where I was going, because I owe her that much. One thing neither of us needs is abandonment, and one off day where one of us loses track of the time or gets lost, that's what we could think. Flight, well, it's in our nature. It's the kind of people we are: flighty, impulsive, and reckless. We loved each other, we wouldn't leave forever, but small acts can seem like abandonment. If Mia went to a club without inviting me, I'd feel pretty neglected. There aren't many people I need in my life, but I need Mia Rinaldi, and I don't know what I'd do if she didn't need me back.

Smiling, I rolled on top of Mia, knowing she hates that. She coughed and sputtered and tried to wriggle out of the sandwich she found herself in between me and the floor.

"Off! Off, Rose, you're such a cow." She spat, but I laughed and threw my arms around her and squeezed, 'cow' wasn't a new term coming from her.

"Next time, I won't leave a note, because you'll be coming with me," I said affectionately, letting her know that I was no longer upset, and I didn't want her to be upset with me.

She hugged me back then, even though her face was red. The girl was tiny and I, well, wasn't.

I rolled off of her, now on the opposite side of her, but I was still on the floor.

"Did you say 'gelato' earlier?" I inquired.

She rolled her eyes, "You're a loser, Rose. Now can you really not get up without my help?"

"I think I'm good now," I smiled, and I was. I don't know what was up with me, but I felt a lot better now.

"Then, why are we laying here?"  
>"I heard this is therapeutic, actually."<br>"Laying on the floor? Therapeutic for what?"

"Your back, obviously."

"Well, I care more about my hair, can we get up, get ready, and go? You have things to tell me, after all," she said, starting to stand.  
>"What things do I have to tell you?" I replied, standing. She stared at me like I was stupid.<p>

"What you did last night, obviously."

What did I do last night? I drank, I gambled, I saw Adrian, and – _oh. _

* * *

><p>"You <em>what!?<em>" Lissa exclaimed, causing my hand to fly to the phone's speaker. A few people around us shot us some dirty looks, because even though my hand over the phone's speaker turned down the volume a bit, Lissa was still yelling and talking and squealing and chastising. Mia choked on her cappuccino flavoured gelato, coughing and sputtering with the spoon still in her mouth. I rolled my eyes.

"Lissa, I'm going to hang up if you don't be quiet, you're on speaker in a public place," I hissed, and she gradually calmed down, and was soon silent. I turned to Mia, waiting for her reaction.

"I can't believe you made out with Adrian Ivashkov and you waited until the next day to tell me." She said seriously, and I could practically hear Lissa's head bounce in agreement.

"I didn't _make out _with him," I said in annoyance, "besides, it's not like it means anything. I was drunk. It was really weird, actually, because I didn't feel drunk the whole time. I was hyper aware of everything. I consider it an 'out-of-body' experience." I said sagely.

Mia's eyes looked like they were ready to shoot laser beams at me, and I swear I could feel Lissa's glare all the way from where she was.

"I agree with Mia," Lissa said. I had taken my hand off the speaker, but turned down the volume as a precaution for one of Lissa's outbursts.

"I can't believe you got drunk without me," Mia added, and I swear, she looked more angry at that than the first confession.

"I don't agree with Mia," Lissa added. I sighed.

"Look, guys, it doesn't really mean anything. Have any of you even _heard_ of Adrian Ivashkov? The string of lovers, mistresses, women, whatever? The trail of broken hearts, and cigarettes and the things he gets away with, I don't want to get involved with someone like him. I never did, not last night, not tonight, not tomorrow night, not_ ever._ I was caught up in the heat of the moment, I was drunk, and I don't plan on letting it happen again." I said with a note of finality.

"When I go down there, you're going to show me that sunset Rose," Lissa told me. I nodded my head even though she couldn't see it.

"Well, um," Mia's voice had grown shy, and the subject of the conversation was no longer me, because when was Mia ever shy? "Something also happened to me last night when you were gone."

I raised my eyebrows at her, and Lissa was listening intently.

"Well, Ivan came to the room yesterday –"

I jumped up in the middle of the gelato shop we were in not far from the Strip.

"Whoa, wait, stop right there. Ivan came to our room? Why? What did he want? Was Dimitri with him? Was Viktoria with him? Oh my God, he was alone wasn't he? Why? Why did he come? What did he want? Did you kiss him? _Mia, did you kiss him?_"

"Who's Ivan? Who's Ivan?" Lissa screamed into the phone, and I was thankful that the volume was turned down because I was too worked up to cover the speaker with my hand. We only met Ivan and Dimitri recently, they're practically strangers to us, but I'm only acting this way because of how shy Mia was acting with it. She wouldn't meet my eyes, and a blush was crawling up onto her face. Though we didn't know them for that long, there was an obvious attraction between the two of them, and if nothing happened Mia wouldn't be acting the way she was.

"I didn't _kiss_ him. God Rose, we only just met Ivan and Dimitri. I'm not like you." She snapped. That last part hurt a little, not because of what she implied, because Mia knows me and she knows that I'm not like that. She must have been referring to how I kissed Adrian. It hurt mainly because she _was_ like me. Mia has done things worse than me, so she shouldn't be talking like she was better than me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."  
>"I know, it's alright." And it was, it was fine. Everyone has slip-ups.<br>"And Dimitri? There's two? You met two guys? Who's Ivan? Who's Dimitri? Who's Viktoria? Who are these people? _Why is no one answering me?!_" Lissa was freaking out, and even though the volume was turned down, people were still staring.

"Lissa, calm down. Dimitri and Ivan are these two guys we met earlier this week, and we will tell you the story, but first I want to hear about what happened when Ivan came to our room." I looked at Mia expectantly. She took a deep breath, and told us about how Viktoria had forgotten her phone in our room and made him go back for it. She had just discovered I was gone, and had worked herself into such a worried frenzy she had begun to seriously freak out. She hadn't heard Ivan knocking, so he decided to come in. Him finding her in that state caused Mia to break down, but he had held her and comforted her and assured her that I was okay. She told us about how he was gentle, she told us about how he backed off when he needed to and knew that he didn't need to be _too _gentle. She told us things that she didn't need to, how his eyes were a darker blue than a deep sea and she told us these things in a way that also told us she wasn't really with us, but deep within herself. She told us things that he told her, things that made her think and wonder and made her thankful that he was there for her, when I wasn't. And, in telling us those things, she unknowingly told me that even though we had just met Ivan, it was clear that they had a mutual liking to each other and if she chose to pursue it, it would bloom into something beautiful. When she was finished, Lissa was silent on the other line, mulling over the story.

I stared at her and asked in a completely serious manner, "So when are you going to ask him out?" Mia looked shocked.

"Rose, I'm not going t – to –"

"If I didn't like a girl, I wouldn't hold her and stroke her hair and assure her that everything would be alright, I would ask her if she needed a glass of water and that's it. Then I'd get my best friend's sister's cellphone and be on my merry way," I said.

"Yeah, but that's because you're an asshole," Mia raised an eyebrow at me.

"Rose, you'd probably want to do something about it but you aren't the most gentle person," Lissa laughed softly.

"Oh, shut up, the both of you," I laughed, "but really Mia, you aren't going to do anything about it?"  
>"I don't think she should rush into things Rose, you haven't known this guy very long," Lissa said.<p>

Mia nodded, "And that's why we keep Lissa around, so she can tell you how stupid you can be sometimes. Really, Rose? A week? Too little time. That's what we need, time, and maybe something will happen."  
>"Not if you don't do something about it," I argued.<p>

"I will do something about it, but I don't want to throw myself at him, y'know?" She countered.

I sighed. "Fine. So you two only talked about you? You didn't get to know him a bit more?"

She shook her head no, "I asked him a bit about himself, and Dimitri, and Viktoria, and Rose, did you know about the gang activity happening?"

"What gang activity?" I knit my eyebrows together in confusion.

"Well, I asked about where Dimitri worked, and he's a cop, he lives in Pennsylvania. He told me that right now Dimitri's pretty stressed because there's a lot of gang violence that's spreading throughout the States, and he doesn't know why. More people are involved, and apparently he's hating that, the fact that it got so out of hand that forces from other States are starting to try and bring it down. I don't know, since we're here a lot, Ivan asked me to keep tabs on anyone who seems suspicious. You can't tell Dimitri though, apparently he doesn't want the help, and the authorities are trying to keep this on the down low. I guess because that's what gangs want, recognition. Sucks, too, he's supposed to be on vacation. Lissa, you listen to. I just thought I'd pass it on, and there was this name we're supposed to listen out for but Ivan couldn't remember what it was, which isn't much help. Can you believe it, Rose? Gang activity. Gangs are so stupid, with robbing and killing and abusing, for what purpose? Mobs, I guess I'd kind of understand, because at least that's a system. It's organized, complex, worthy of such worry. Gangs? I'm surprised a group so violent and sloppy can hold itself together. It's so pointless. I hope they take it down soon, I don't want anyone to be in danger."

My gelato was fully melted by now, and I was no longer hungry any way. I was hung on what Mia had said, hung on the little information I had on Dimitri and what I learned about this piece of news. Gangs are capable of a lot of damage.

"Lissa? Are you still with us?" I spoke into the phone.

"Yeah – just – planning – Christian! Have you seen my green dress?!"

"Liss, what are you planning?" I asked.

"If it works out, I'll let you know. I have to go for now, alright? I love you both, and I'll talk to you both later."

Mia and I said our goodbyes, paid for our gelato, and went back to our hotel to just hang out for the rest of the day, because we decided that tonight we're going out.

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><p><strong>AN: So what's cooking, good looking? Hopefully something, because I can't cook to save my life. Anyway, I want to change the title for this story. I hate doing that, I really do, but I don't like Taking Chances and I have a few titles in my head but I wanted to know if you guys would mind. I mean, I know it doesn't matter because it's my story and I can change the title if I want to but a good title and summary is what makes someone read the story. I might not change it but if I decide to will that confuse people, or? A big big big thanks to Sporty, Rose Melissa Ivashkov, and Ello for their reviews. A big thanks to everyone, really, I just said those reviewers because they were the ones for chapter nine, but honestly? I appreciate every single one of them. I usually find myself not wanting to write, but then I come back to the reviews and they light my fingers on fire because it's nice knowing that I have people to please. If you actually read this A/N, the whole thing, congrats, and if you read this story and don't review, then I probably can't love you forever. Sorry.**


	11. Chapter 11 (Nine is a chapter now okay)

Taking Chances Chapter 11

**A/N: The shortest chapter I've uploaded, but I feel like I can't add anything more to this chapter without it being ruined, even though I know this could have been a lot better. I thought this was satisfactory. **

**RPOV**

I was trying my best to have fun. The night started out fine, Mia and myself took a fair amount of time getting ourselves ready for this new club that had opened up not far from the strip. She was looking pretty good in a pale mint green dress, made of some light, translucent fabric, and I thought I didn't look too bad myself in a pair of white shorts and a loose white top that flowed over my arms. The music wasn't the greatest, it was just plain house music when we usually like clubs that play a mix of different genres, but it was fine enough with us. We were gad to have worn pale colours, the coloured lights reflected nicely off of the material of our outfits – we attracted a lot of attention that way, something we both liked. However, the love of attention was quickly weening off of me. I did not know why, but I steadily began to feel uneasy about the prospect of eyes on me. I just wanted to have fun with Mia, enjoy the music, then pack up and go home. I felt a particular gaze, one that made me more uneasy than the attention. I felt like I was being studied. I felt so vulnerable. I found myself inside the bathroom, leaving Mia to dance, just to catch my breath. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just enjoy myself? I was suddenly overcome with the desire to go home, put on some fluffy pajamas, and watch some nice, girly television. The only thing holding me back from walking out of this place right now was the fact that Mia was having fun, I did not want to ruin this night for her.

The sound of glass breaking outside of the bathroom was enough to snap me out of my odd mood and rush outside in time to witness the bar fight that was tearing apart the normal club scene. My heart started to pound, the fast paced rhythm dully ringing through my ears. The house music was still being played – the dj had obviously ditched. The place was in full chaos.

Usually, when fights break out at bars and clubs, security handles it and every one else goes on as they should.

But I could not see how they were to contain _this. _

Broken glass was flying through the air, dark, rich liquid spewing all over the white tiled floor. People were shouting, most things I couldn't understand – threats, profanities, names of other people. There was not a single person in that club that I could see not in action. Women were in heaps on the floor, struggling to either fight each other or safely exit the club, men were being held back or brawling. Security were trying to get everything under control, but, how can several large men handle the plethora of anger?

_Mia, where's Mia? _I thought frantically, this was obviously _not _safe and we needed to get out of here. When I left her, she was in the middle of the dance floor. If I went anywhere close to all of that fighting, I would get seriously hurt, and I couldn't even focus. How could I? Everything was closing in on me, it was so hot my face was dripping sweat, my body ached from dancing, my heart was racing, I was feeling boxed in by the anger and fear that was dripping off of the people in the club. My senses were shocked, I couldn't move – there was no where to go without getting seriously hurt. I couldn't think straight, I could barely breathe, and I was standing off near the bathroom, the only cleared space in the club.

_And Mia was right in the middle of it._

I could not leave her there. She could be hurt. Surely, someone here tonight would end up dead. There was already blood on the wet bar, screams ringing through the air – over the horrible music and the shouts. I made a quick plan of when I got her, to bolt for the bathrooms and exit out of the window, since the entrance to the club was jammed with far too many people. Without thinking about it a second more, I thanked whoever was above that I was wearing shorts and sneakers, and threw myself into the fray.

* * *

><p>The shots rang out before I found Mia.<p>

I had barely even broken in through the crowd before the _pop, pop, pop _that kind of sounded like fireworks caused the chaos level to rise about three levels on the scale of mayhem. I had the instinct to get down, but that would have been kind of stupid for three reasons.

Reason number one: People were going batshit crazy. One hundred, maybe one hundred and fifty people were acting in panic. Which didn't help _me _in the slightest. I was tempted to turn, run, hide, do anything and everything to get away from this place and the _danger, danger, danger,_ playing out in my head. But I couldn't do that.

Reason number two: Mia. I had to get to her. She was in there, somewhere, looking for me. She wouldn't leave me. I hoped she would. I hoped she would just pack up her panic and run away from this place because she could somehow sense that I could escape from the bathroom window. But I couldn't continue to hope that.

Reason number three: I was being grabbed. Someone put their arm around my torso, their hand around my mouth. And I thought I could feel panic before, but I couldn't. That was _their _panic, the crowds, rolling off me in waves. _This, _I thought, _this is my panic. _

My heart stopped, and I couldn't even try to fight whoever was pulling me away from the crowd. I was wide-eyed and lost in a world with spinning colour and screaming people and shattered glass and _danger, danger, danger. _I tried to scream for Mia, but it was impossible to scream when your heart was in your throat.

I didn't even see what whoever grabbed me looked like. I couldn't smell anything, either. In fact, I could not do anything but allow myself to be frozen in the panic. Even when the person who grabbed me pressed a substance – that I could not smell because I was so terrified – to my nose, I couldn't even to anything then. I could not do one thing but allow my wide eyes and my stopped heart and my voice screaming danger in my mind to comply.


	12. Chapter 12

Taking Chances Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey, I appreciate every single person reviewing, story-alerting, fave-ing. Thank you. (I have a question for you guys in the bottom A/N)**

**Some things that don't make sense in this chapter will be answered in the next one. Promise. **

* * *

><p><em>I tried to scream for Mia, but it was impossible to scream when your heart was in your throat.<em>

_I didn't even see what whoever grabbed me looked like. I couldn't smell anything, either. In fact, I could do nothing but allow myself to be frozen in the panic. Even when the person who dragged me pressed a substance – that I could not smell because I was so terrified – to my nose, I couldn't even do anything then. I could not do one thing but allow my wide eyes and my stopped heart and my voice screaming danger in my mind to comply._

* * *

><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

They had pressed the substance-sodden gauze to my nose for barely even a minute before it was removed and I was being half dragged, half carried, to the far back of the club and pushed out of an exit. I was being leaned against the brick wall, it being used at leverage as I felt arms wrap around me and lift me up. My already dark world swam before my eyes. The atmosphere was murky and the air was far too humid and dense. Behind me, I heard scuffling and grunting, but I did not even bother to look as I tried to even out my erratic breathing. My mind was absolutely clogged up with flashes of images that changed too quickly for me to process what each of them were. I wanted to have a single focal point, but I couldn't seem to find one. And as I looked for one, the scuffling stopped and the person carrying me began to walk. I closed my eyes and pretended as though I was unconscious, because I was in no position to fight or run, and I didn't want whoever had me in their grasp to make sure they did their job right, whatever it was. When the possibilities of what that job could be began to dance in my mind, I could feel my heart begin to race, and I fought to calm it so that I could appear serene and asleep.

_Calm down, Rose. If you calm down you can think clearly of a way to get yourself out of this mess. _

But the more I thought about slowing the beating of my heart, the more I thought about how the possibility of it stopping completely was likely.

_Distract yourself. Think about something that makes you happy. _

A distraction. I immediately thought about what made me happy, what made me escape from things when I couldn't find a focal point. I began to think about the sweet smell of a fresh deck of cards, the sound of poker chips hitting the felt. The content feeling of being seated in front of a slot machine. A place where no one judges you, because they're all the same. People who dream of something more – who crave it – who would risk anything to get it. People who don't want to deal with the pressures of reality, and can lose it all in the magic of unpredictability, in gambling, in taking chances. Suddenly, my whole body ached to be there, among the people who don't care about social status, who just wanted to experience life when everything was on the table.

By then, my panic had disappeared, and now I focused truly on finding a focal point. I dropped my head off of the arm carrying me, making it seem as though I slipped off, and they made no effort to correct me. I opened the eye farthest from the person, thankful my hair was covering my face. Everything was moving because of the walking, the fact that I was half-upside down, but I could at least see the steam spewing from a laundry pipe out of the back of a building. I was in an alleyway.

I had an arm dangling off of the person, and I subtly tried to see how well I could bend it. Then, my fingers, and I went through a system of stealth and repetition as I tried to assess my body. Once I was pleased that everything was working well enough, I decided that when the person reached their –

I just barely had time to contain my gasp when I was almost dropped to the floor. The person had abruptly stopped in their tracks, pivoted, then lowered me against a wall in the alley. I kept my eyes closed for five seconds, then tentatively opened the one better concealed by my hair. I could see the figure of the person who was carrying me – a mere shadow, tall and intimidating and undeniably masculine. He looked more like a faint silhouette rather than a person. And when his arm extended, I could just barely make out the shape of the handgun poised towards something that I could not see. My heart skipped, and I turned my head slightly to assess my options of escape. It was hard, and I did not want to make any dramatic movements in case he chose to turn around and look at me. I saw that I did not have very many – the alleyway had little to no light, and it seemed as though it stretched on forever. There were no lights from stores, clubs, or bars on – everyone had packed up and gone home.

"Show yourself!"

The yell was muffled by distance and the dull thud of fright in my ears – but I still heard it. The poised gun shifted from one side, then another, and I realized that the man did not have a set target. The man turned in a direction facing me, and I closed my eyes for another five seconds. When they opened, I saw that he was still facing in my direction and I froze, but his attention was not on me. And, from behind him, a shadow just about his height – but more slender, except from an unnatural bulk on the torso, crept silently and tackled the man to the ground. The firearm was knocked out of the hand of the man and skidded across the ground of the alleyway. The two grappled, and my heart was lodged in my throat as I watched the change of events. Seeing details to their dark frames was far too difficult in such low light, they were shadows dancing on shadows.

I decided that, as long as the second figure was still winning, I could use that opportunity to escape. I did not know if our new guest was a friend or enemy, all I knew was that it _wasn't _the man who swooped me out of the club so I quickly decided that they were a friend. I stood, and found that my legs worked fine. I turned towards the dark expanse of shadow and began to bolt.

When I was some distance away from the fight, I noticed that there were no breakings in the buildings. There was no way to turn out from behind the alley and get to a main street. So was this even an alley? A gunshot had me on the floor in a second, but I wasn't hit. The shot itself was almost muted, and I was going to jump up and continue running when I heard "Rose!" echo through the "alley" and turn my body around to face the way I had come.

I had recognized the voice.

And I still shouldn't have turned around, and run back, but I did, to find Dimitri pointing a gun that looked different than the one I saw before at the crumpled man on the ground, groaning. Without taking his eyes off the man, Dimitri said, "Rose, get in the car," and tilted his head in a direction where I saw a nondescript car I had not noticed before, shut off and the doors were opened. I had found my focal point. The set of his jaw, the tightness in his shoulder, the rigidness in his posture, the finality in his low, accented voice made me want to wet my pants.

You better believe I listened to him.

Seated in the passenger seat of his car I watched Dimitri's face as his mouth moved, though I couldn't hear anything, or read his lips. The man on the ground moved, but did not actually get up. I was terrified, and it felt like years before the blinking red, blue and white lights illuminated the darkness set upon the pseudo-alleyway. Four police officers stepped out of two cruisers that pulled up, and took him away. One spoke with Dimitri for a while and both of their gazes rested on me. I shrank back and the police officer nodded at Dimitri before driving away with the man and Dimitri walked to the car. I dropped my gaze to my folded hands in my lap, and stayed that way even when Dimitri was seated in the car and looked at me. Waiting for something. "Is Mia okay?" I asked, and he nodded, said that they had found her, looking for me, and I slumped a little in relief. Then, he said, "I'm going to take you to my apartment," as if that would coax something more out of me. But nothing came. I could give him nothing. And so he did the perfect thing and did not push for anything, just put the car in drive and left the alley, bringing us out of the shadows into the Vegas lights.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm very sorry for the length of the chapter. I haven't been writing much because I've kind of lost most of my motivation for this story, but I promised myself that I wouldn't give up on my first story so hopefully if I just kind of push myself to write I'll find the drive to finish it. I have a place where I want this story to go, I remember that, but I had a reason for starting to write it, but that's something I can't remember. Question: what do **_**you **_**want to get out of this story? Plot-wise, character-wise, anything. Any POVs you'd like? Changes in chapter length? Any scenes you want to see told in a different POV? What kind of story are you hoping for? Maybe what you're hoping for wasn't in my original plan for this story or the plan I have for it now, but I maybe something new might get me excited about this again. **


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